Sweet Perfected Naivety Meets Its Counterpart
by LilPurplFlwr
Summary: A problematic gang Yami, Bakura, Malik, Jou, Mai struggles to survive the fatal fights with other groups. Yuugi, Ryou, Anzu, even Seto, never knew a stranger could bring such trouble into their lives. Op. gang: Mariku, Otogi Drama,Action YxY,BxR,MxM,SxJ
1. Chapter 1: Running Into a Scary Group

**A/N**: I chose to stop writing and revise the first 16 chapters of this fic, because I found a lot of the content to be redundant, boring, and pathetic. =.= Yes, it was that bad.

Welcome to the New-and-Improved Sweet Perfected Naivety Meets Its Counterpart!

Please tell me how you find the changes.

_Yami = Yami no Yugi _

_Ryou = Ryou Bakura_

_Bakura = Yami no Bakura _

_Malik = Malik Ishtar_

_Mariku = Yami no Malik _

* * *

Sweet Perfected Naivety Meets Its Counterpart 

Chapter 1: Running Into a Scary Group

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

It was not something Yugi chose to do willingly. As a matter of fact, he begged them, just to let him go through. But the police would not let him walk through the bloody area; a result of a gang fight in the streets.

No. Yugi was not the type to be particularly interested in this type of morbid excitement. But, compared to the longer, darker, more dangerous, and scarier route through the alley-like streets, he would rather take his usual route, through the tainted (but brighter) main street. Why did the stupid gangs pick such a nice street to pick a fight on, anyways?

Yugi Motou, at seventeen years, was still a petite teenager. Maybe it was his family genes that he acquired, but looking like a fifteen year old had its disadvantages. He was naturally bullied at his private school, though not as extensively as in a public school, but it hurt nevertheless.

'_Too innocent-looking for my own good_,' Yugi thought grimly to himself, trying to wrap his thin school jacket around himself tighter, '_I couldn't change my image if my life depended on it._'

Yugi went to one of the "higher-class" private schools, as his grandfather called it. You may even say that they ran an overly successful game shop. They had the only shop in the area that sold extra rare and special Duel Monsters cards. But Yugi did not care much for the prosperity of his small family.

Define small.

Yugi did not know where his family was. He had his grandfather, and the tri-colored teenager was very grateful for his elderly guardian. That concluded his immediate family that Yugi knew of. Yugi felt he was missing out, because everyone (exaggeration, of course) at school had arrogant and expectant parents, who came to discuss problems with the principal every, single week for the protection of their child. It was the same thing as complaining, but, hey, it showed that they cared, right?

The lack of a big brother or sister to confide in, or a younger sibling to argue with, left nobody but Yugi's grandfather, Sugoroku Motou, to talk to. And like other parents, his grandfather was a busy man, who managed the game shop by himself, with the occasional help from Yugi.

The emptiness never left him.

But, currently, Yugi was more worried about his tiny amount of courage leaving him. Nervous and jumpy, Yugi continued to walk down the dark and narrow street, trying to ignore the trash that littered the curb. He clutched his library books tighter against him. His backpack was hanging off one of his shoulders, lighter than the load in his arms. He had spend his whole afternoon in the library, until it closed at nine, finishing his homework. It was only Friday night, but he was planning to spend the whole Saturday with his friends.

With his mind only concentrated on the image of his comfy, safe two-story house that was connected directly to the game shop, Yugi sped up as his fear increased. He could feel pairs of dull, yet malicious eyes staring at him with every single step. Each second that passed increased the percentage of him getting harassed, robbed, or raped.

Ahead of him, a small group of five turned their attention to his rushing figure. Yugi shuddered, hoping he could pass without any trouble.

* * *

"Well, whad'dya know. Check out the lil' munchkin hurrying down our street," Jou murmured, flicking his golden blonde strands out of his warm eyes, as he caught sight of Yugi.  
  
"What a cutie pie," laughed the blonde female, also the only girl in the lounging group.  
  
"Mai..." The group exchanged a look of exasperation before they sighed. She just could not be helped.  
  
"Sorry, guys! But he looks so much like a doll or something! You have to admit, he's looking incredibly adorable," Mai said, nodding at Yugi, who was cautiously slowing down as he caught sight of their group.  
  
The platinum-haired teenager, who was casually leaning against the wall, grinned evilly, something that the whole group saw too much of. Then the teen , with pale blond hair, next to him smirked also.  
  
The last teenager, slimmer then the others, with an interesting combination of three colors in his hair, sighed and rubbed his head.  
  
"What are you two thinking of _now_?" Yami asked, rolling his crimson eyes, before focusing on the snickering duo.  
  
"Well, for your information," Malik started, "He seems to be one of the little snobs from the," he changed his voice as if to mock sophistication, "Higher Classes."  
  
Bakura chuckled, "Speaking of rich people, can you believe the stupid cops didn't know who made that mess over there? You would think that after so long, they would become a little more observant…"  
  
The group's attention was again turned away when they all smelled a waft of cleaness. You must understand, they really do not smell soap a lot where they lived.  
  
Yugi had rushed past them, as if running a marathon.  
  
Thinking fast and noticing how the small teenager had just passed the second he had mentioned the police and mess, Bakura sprinted after the boy, who was no match for his speed.  
  
"Bakura!" Mai exclaimed, her violet eyes snapping angrily, being the one in the group who had most of her heart left.  
  
Bakura grabbed Yugi harshly and slammed the small boy against a nearby wall. Yugi cried out painfully, taken by surprise. The library books dropped and the backpack slid from its owner's shoulder.  
  
Yugi groaned in pain, wincing and tears welling up in his eyes, feeling stronger hands pushing him against the cold brick wall.  
  
"How much did you hear, punk?" Bakura growled, debating whether to use a blade on the kid or not.  
  
The other four teenagers walked closer for inspection and observation.  
  
"Ugh…" Yugi could not speak for a moment.  
  
Bakura started to shake him quite violently, "Answer me, damn it!"  
  
"S-stop it!" Yugi cried out, grasping his assailant's arms and trying to make the stormy-brown eyed teen stop the brutal shaking.  
  
"He said stop."  
  
Bakura felt a calm hand on his shoulder. He sighed, knowing exactly who it was. Yami always ruined Bakura's fun.  
  
Bakura let go of Yugi, shoving the smaller boy a little, as if stating, '_You weren't even worth my time_'. Yugi fell limply onto the street, next to his strewn books. His head was bowed down, and his arms were wrapped around himself.  
  
"So, Yami, what's the meaning of this?" Bakura said, growling, "Did you forget this snobby little brat can tattle on us so quick, we won't know what hit us until we're in jail?"  
  
Tears dropped from Yugi's eyes. It hurt, physically, to be slammed into a wall, shaken, and pushed around. It also hurt more, to be called a snobby brat when he hated snobby brats himself, meaning the majority of his high school.  
  
"I propose that we carve some designs into him," Malik offered, playing with his knife nonchalantly, his dark lavender eyes staring straight at the said victim.  
  
Yugi's eyes widened.  
  
"You did too much of 'dat a few hours ago," Jou shot back, trying to prevent the spilling of any innocent blood.  
  
"Well, they deserved it, and you know it," Malik said, flipping the knife and catching it skillfully behind his back.  
  
"I don't think carving designs on their backs is exactly what they deserved," Mai added.  
  
"Yami wouldn't let me carve it on their hearts," Malik shrugged, shooting a glare at Yami, who had to restrain himself from flicking off his friend, "What else was I to do?" Malik asked, blinking innocently at his friends.

Yugi was shivering violently.  
  
"So…" Yami kneeled down to Yugi's level, "How much did you hear?"  
  
Bakura snorted, "Look at Yami go. The whole 'I-am-your-friend' act. Tell me, Yami, how many times has that worked?"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
Yugi shuddered again, and whispered in a meek voice, "Are you going to hurt me?"  
  
"Yes," came Bakura's sarcastic comment.  
  
"No," Yami's voice said reassuringly, yet threatening at the same time. Yugi could not tell if it was directed towards himself, or the white-haired teen named Bakura.  
  
"Kill me?" Yugi said, voice fading even more.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No," Yami said again, his voice hardening when he kept hearing Bakura interjecting his own wishes.  
  
"Y-You aren't going to...rape me?"  
  
"..."

Yami did not answer right away. What image did they present?  
  
"Sure, why not?" Bakura laughed, knowing exactly which buttons to push to annoy Yami.  
  
Yugi almost died right there. He felt faint and backed up against the wall for support.  
  
"Bakura..." Yami muttered warningly, holding up a fist, "One more word out of you..."  
  
"And what will you do?" taunted Bakura, with a challenging smirk, "You can't do anything."  
  
Yami snapped right there. He stood up quickly and whirled around. Bakura readied himself into a defensive position.  
  
Yugi watched in half-horror and half-amazement as the two teenagers started to try and vitally hurt each other. Fast martial arts mixed with more sordid attempts for injury learned on the streets blurred together in Yugi's sight.  
  
Mai knelt down next to Yugi, who scooted a little away from her.  
  
"Hey, kid," Mai said, looking amusedly down upon Yugi, before she giggled, "Oh, you are _so_ cute."  
  
Yugi scooted further away from her, "Uh, t-thank you?"  
  
"Nothing to thank her for," Jou grinned, leaning against the wall on the other side of Yugi. Mai caught this comment as Jou's tendency to take her for granted and sniffed indignantly at her blonde friend.  
  
"So, while those two violent teens get their anger out," Mai explained to Yugi, "I want to tell you, we aren't going to do anything to you."  
  
"Hey, who died and made you boss?" Malik said, standing in front of Yugi, who had nowhere to shift now.  
  
"Shut up," Mai commanded, rolling her eyes. No matter how much she tried to cover it, she would forever worry about Malik and his strange penchants for death. "So what's your name?" Mai asked, standing up, offering a hand for assistance to Yugi.  
  
"Yugi Motou," Yugi said softly, starting to gather his books up, "I should go though. My grandpa needs me at home."  
  
"Yugi...how cute," Mai said, "Better get home before you get hurt around here," she winked.  
  
Yugi smiled gratefully and slung his backpack back over his shoulder, "Thanks. Goodbye."  
  
Mai waved bye before she turned around to see Jou holding Malik, as if for his own dear life, so Malik would not chase down Yugi. Bakura finally managed to wretch himself from Yami's grip, brushed himself off casually, and walked over to where Mai was motherly making sure Yugi had safely made it out of their street and into brighter lit areas. Yami also dusted his hands off, straightened his black tank, and joined the rest of his group.  
  
"You let the little pip-squeak go?" Bakura yelled.  
  
"You have a problem with it, you psychopathic maniac??" Mai snapped back, her nice appearance disappearing in a second when Bakura confronted her.  
  
"Yeah, I have a problem with it, bitch!"  
  
**_Slap!_**  
  
"Go Mai!" Jou said, laughing at Bakura's angry expression, as he touched his hurt face.  
  
"Are you just going to stand there and let a girl take advantage of you?" Malik teased, his lavender eyes glittering michieviously, "Bakura must be ill."  
  
"Shut up, you bastard!" Bakura grumbled, narrowing his eyes into dark slits, before he pounced at his friend.  
  
Yami rubbed his temple, "Jou, is it just me, or are we the only normal ones in this group?"  
  
"Ah, well," Jou considered, "Normal, meaning not psychopaths or mother hens? Then, yes, we're da only normal ones."  
  
"Who are you calling a mother hen?" demanded Malik, who had a knife to Bakura's throat, whilst Bakura had one to Malik's stomach.  
  
Yami groaned in exasperation and sat down on the curb of the street. In the background of his headache he could hear Mai's voice saying something in the lines of 'I was the mother hen, you dumbass' and then some more sounds of bedlam. Running his hand through his hair, Yami gave a small disgusted sound.  
  
"Hey guys..." he asked loudly, hearing the tumbling around him slow for a moment, "Have we paid the rent and stuff?"  
  
Mai sat down heavily next to Yami, her dark purple leather outfit now more slashed up by either Bakura or Malik, or both. "Well, kind of," Mai said, depression setting in.  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"It probably means, all we've got covered is the rent. And the bills...I don't think so," Jou added, pushing his bangs away from his face.  
  
"Well, this is not much a surprise," Yami muttered darkly, "I do this every month, every week, every day almost. But, seriously, the way Bakura does it..."  
  
"You have a probably with my method of doing what you must do?" Bakura asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.  
  
"I think his stealing is an art, by the way," Malik added.  
  
"Okay, we need to worry about food, rent, bills," Yami listed, carefully ignoring Malik's comment, "Mainly all concluding that we need to get some more money…"  
  
"Get out that prostitute outfit of yours Mai," Bakura teased.  
  
"That was low!" Mai said, smacking Bakura on his leg, since he was towering above her own seated body.  
  
"Joking, joking," Bakura said, trying to lighten up the mood.  
  
As much as he was violent and all, Bakura still was human. And worrying came with the package called, "Human Emotions." So naturally, Bakura was worrying too. Malik as well. They were not as bad as people might see them as.  
  
Yami got up with a heavy sigh, pushing his blonde bangs out of his face in a tired and sleepy motion. In a silent statement that he was going to turn in, Yami turned and walked toward their small living complex on the street.

"_Yami!_"

Yami felt someone tackle him hard enough to make him lunge toward the cement. Half-awake and trying to get his guards back up, Yami pushed against his assailant and tried to twist from underneath the person. Seeing the silver flash of an edge of a blade, Yami heard a dark voice whisper, "Let's see if I can engrave pictures onto _you_!"

In the dark, Yami felt the the blade bite into his chest as he struggled to get away from beneath the heavier gang member.

"You picked a shitty night to attack us alone, fool," came Bakura's voice, dripping with venom as he kicked the man off Yami, who was feeling blood drain out of him quicker than he had measured.

Bakura, with a quick glance at the slim figure on the floor, quickly calculated that Yami must have lost enough blood now to be unconscious. The white-haired teen shot Malik a meaningful glance and pulled out his own switchblade and faced the shadowed man, currently rubbing his side from where he had been kicked.

As Malik went to look at Yami, the man turned to run away toward the brighter streets, believing that they would not fight in the watchful neighborhood.

Bakura chased right after him and easily caught up to the attacker. Facing the opposing gang member, Bakura smirked grimly and feigned an innocent look, "Didn't you want to play?"

* * *

**A/N**: The first chapter was not too different. I believe it will be the later chapters that will be more different (that's where the quality goes down). _Please_ leave a review!! Did you like the revision? Hate it? Please be truthful!


	2. Chapter 2: Something to Remember Me

**A/N**: I know it hasn't been much of a change, but bear with me? The major changes will come with the later chapters (the really, _really_ bad chapters).

I've changed 'Yugi' to 'Yuugi', but haven't changed the spelling in chapter one… ignore it. XD 

* * *

Sweet Perfected Naivety Meets Its Counterpart

Chapter 2: Something to Remember Me

by LilPurplFlwr 

* * *

Muttering softly to himself, Yuugi rolled over under the warm covers before he decided to check what time it was exactly. Opening one eye carefully, he noted the cloudy gray weather outside. Realizing that his grandfather had already come in and drawn open his curtains, Yuugi rubbed his eyes blearily and stared blankly past his digital clock. It took him several seconds to register that the bright neon numbers changed to _11:07_.

"Oh, god!!" he gasped, recoiling slightly from panic. 

He jumped out of bed and ran for his closet. He carelessly grabbed several articles of clothing and threw an outfit together, praying he matched. He rushed downstairs, the kitchen table cleared and set for lunch without a grandfather in sight. Yuugi had managed to sleep so late he was, not only too late to help open the shop, but late for a meeting with his friends. Nearly skidding into the door that connected the house to the game shop, he bumped against it firmly, wincing as he did. As Yuugi threw open the door of the shop, his grandfather peered at him amusedly from behind a few new boxes of dueling cards.

"Ohayo, Yuugi," greeted his grandfather, his expression twisted to maintain a straight face. It wasn't every day his grandson overslept and ran into a door.

"Ohayo gozaimasu, grandpa!" Yuugi responded automatically, before childishly blaming the elderly man, "Why didn't you wake me?? I wanted to help! I'm not lazy," Yuugi muttered to himself, as if trying to convince himself.

His grandfather remained quiet, keeping his own opinions to himself. Irritated, Yuugi glanced around the store, trying to calm his nerves that had been rudely jolted awake this morning. Everything had been swept and dusted, the clean glitter of the clock's time winking at him.

"Oh, shoot!" Yuugi exclaimed again, giving his grandfather a transient embrace before he readied himself to sprint for the park.

Halfway out the door, his grandfather's voice caught him again, "How did I come to have a midget for a grandson?"

Whirling around heatedly, Yuugi put his hands on his hips and pouted, "Grandpa! I'm surpassing you, aren't I?"

He flicked the sign on the door to 'Open'. Once the door had closed behind him it cut off the sound of Sugoroku Motou's laughter. Trying to slow himself down, knowing how his clumsy side appeared when in a hurry, Yuugi took a deep breath of air and began to walk down his street, tensing when he realized he would, again, have to cross that foreboding street. 

* * *

"Where _are_ they?" Honda asked, looking at his watch, "Didn't we say eleven?"  
  
"Well, you know Yuugi," Anzu said, trailing the tips of her shoes in the sand as she sat on the swings, "He is probably helping his grandpa with the store and then coming here."  
  
A white-haired boy trudged slowly through the sand, grimly stepping over a crumbling sandcastle and wincing at the high-pitched shriek of alarm that came from the toddler, "Ohayo."  
  
"_Where have you been???_" both Anzu and Honda yelled at the boy, almost sending the poor teenager reeling backwards.

"You might as well start greeting with 'Konnichiwa'," Honda joked.

"Oh dear. Konnichiwa then," Ryou Bakura corrected himself, missing the joke totally, as he politely covered his mouth as he yawned.

"What made you late, Ryou?" Anzu asked curiously; Usually dubbed as perfect, Ryou Bakura was rarely late.  
  
"Well," Ryou started, running his hand through his hair, "The street I usually take was blocked off. Seems like the gangs decided to pick another street to splatter more blood on."

"The blood stains are going to be expensive to get out," Honda added, having heard some floating gossip around his neighborhood as well.  
  
"You're kidding!" Anzu's eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth, "God! Is nothing around here safe anymore?"  
  
"No kidding," the boy shook his head, "Yuugi's not here yet. I'm guessing he's having the same trouble as me. Besides, I also overslept--"  
  
"_What?!_"  
  
"Ahh," Ryou rubbed his ears, frowning at his two overly, more so than usual, emotional friends, "Calm down. It's not like you guys have never overslept before."  
  
"But you're Ryou," Honda pointed out, a challenging grin on his face as he dropped the worrisome facade, "You're supposed to be perfect for everything," he teased.  
  
"Would you please stop making me feel so guilty?" Ryou said again, starting to feel a little annoyed how much even his friends expected of him, and of something so trivial.  
  
"Excuse me?" Honda asked, testing when Ryou would finally break.

"Just shut up and put a sock in it," Ryou finally said bluntly, narrowing his eyes. He was, apparently, not a morning person.

"I don't know about you, but I definitely don't feel so great today. I must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed," Anzu put in, stretching her arms and grimacing, ignoring a comment about 'PMS' from Honda, "I had some pretty graphic nightmares with sound effects that I never would have dreamed I could imagine."

Ryou raised an eyebrow, semi-amazed that she had yet to put two and two together, "That's the thing, Anzu. Have you read the newspaper this morning?" 

Shaking her head, the girl replied quizzically, "No, I haven't. Why do you ask?" 

* * *

Yuugi blinked owlishly at his path's obstruction. Like last night, this street was also roped off with yellow CAUTION tape, and police cars were scattered among the perimeter. Rubbing his eyes and thinking it was an illusion, he found it was not. His eyes widened as his eyes caught sight of a very messy blood splatter on one of the nicest mansions on the street. His eyes trailed down to the ground where he saw something bagged up.  
  
"Hey, kid!"

Yuugi turned to see an indolent policeman addressing him.

"Get out of here if you know what's good for you--"  
  
Yuugi turned around quietly and began to walk down the street he had taken the night before, noticing the street name in the noon sunshine – Rieki(1). He muttered to himself, "Well, I can't help it if I LIVE here…" 

* * *

"Yami..."  
  
Yami groaned at the blurred sound, too loud for his liking. All he saw was comforting darkness, until he began to feel a stabbing pain in his chest. Not knowing where he was and unable to grasp the memory of what had happened to him, he stayed still.   
  
"Dammit! Open your eyes!" 

Yami recognized Jou's slightly accented voice swearing a few more sentences.  
  
"…Is that why I can't see?" Yami murmured through a dry throat, cracking open both eyes and seeing a hazy sight of Mai, Jou, Bakura, and Malik.  
  
"Oh. Good," Bakura snapped waspishly, his figure crouched closest to Yami's head through the ambiguous vision, "You're not dead."  
  
Yami waited until his eyesight cleared and focused in on his surroundings. He found himself lying on the worn, but still snug, couch in their modest living complex.

"Were you worried about me?" Yami asked amusedly, tilting his head to peer innocently at a peeved Bakura.  
  
"You wish," retorted Bakura with a death glare, "I just feel you shouldn't go to hell before I get there." He then retreated to the other side of the small room with a brooding glance at the other three seated on the floor.  
  
"Aww—We all know what a softy you are, anyways," Mai cooed at Bakura, who looked close enough to spit acid.  
  
Yami struggled to sit up, but when he finally reaching his goal, it left him dizzy and he wanted to roll off the couch in the process. After recovered from the wave of vertigo, he glanced down, eyes widening when he found his typical black shirt was gone. Instead, his chest was wrapped up securedly with bandages.  
  
"Done by yours truly," informed Malik, giving Yami a pat on the bindings, and grinning as the smaller teen winced in pain, "I'm such a genius."  
  
"Gee, thanks," Yami said half-scarcastically, warily watching Malik, just in case his sadistic friend decided he liked seeing Yami in pain. "You must have been trying to cut off my circulation at the same time."

Malik shot an indignant look at Yami, looking rather insulted for the comment on what was a rather professional, flawless bandaging. Simultaneously, the injured teen shot his friend a look that said, _'Now we're even_.'

"But, thank you. I appreciate it."

Satisfied, Malik stood up and brushed off the seat of his pants. With a nod of acceptance at Yami, he went to find Bakura, who had disappeared once no one was watching.  
  
"You were bleeding so much. It barely stopped after a half an hour," Mai informed, looking down at Yami, a rather motherly worried look grazing her features, "That's quite a lot of blood loss."

"Right," Yami answered dismissively, rubbing his unruly hair, "Where's my shirt?"

"Gone, honey," Mai responded easily, "If you have forgotten, the idiot ruined it when he tried to make you into mincemeat."  
  
"I see," Yami sighed, looking rather defeated, "Damn, I think that was my only shirt..."  
  
"Well, it's not like there's a difference," pointed out Jou, jokingly, always one to tease everyone else about their less conservative attire, "If you haven't noticed yet, wearing it and not wearing it makes no difference at all!"  
  
Yami got up from the couch with a frown, "Stupid bastards. I really liked the shirt."

Swinging his arms across his body to loosen up tense muscles, Yami flinched again as pain laced through his body again. Giving up, he walked over to the front door, planning to walk outside when a knife embedded itself in the wood. Malik, who had suddenly appeared, silent as usual, was pressed against the opposite wall where the back door was.

"… I think I pissed off Bakura… again."

Unfazed by the event, which occurred rather often, Yami dislodged the knife and threw it at Malik, who calmly caught it and stored it somewhere on his body. Shaking his head, Yami stepped outside and hissed, his breath coming in visible clouds.

"Fuck!! I t's freezing!!"  
  
"Sorry," Malik commented snidely, having come up behind him, sticking his head out and exhaling in a large sigh, "But we can't seem to control the weather."  
  
"Shut up," shot back Yami, whose temper rose, knowing he was unable to get by without some kind of clothing. Knowing Malik would respond rather nastily, Yami added threateningly, "Don't make me hurt you."  
  
"You're already slashed up enough, so don't make ME slash you up more," Bakura interjected as he sidled up besides Malik, pointing out the obvious and irritating Yami further. 

* * *

"Look, Anzu." Ryou said, taking out a copy of the newspaper from his bag.  
  
"Hmm?" Anzu took the newspaper and almost dropped it.  
  
--_SUDDEN GANG FIGHTS! _

Just yesterday, there were two scenes, where gangs have decided to disturb the peace of our city. The first one occurred on Main Street and the second occurred on 1st Street. Investigators are unable to connect who are involved. The gangs have destroyed all evidence, including murdering the injured. As the saying goes, 'The dead tells no tales'. --

  
  
Anzu shoved the paper back to Ryou, looking nauseated, "I can't read this much longer. It's scaring me and… and First Street is where Yuugi lives. I think we better go check on him."  
  
"But Yuugi should be just fine," Honda added, scrutinizing the vague article. He handed the newspaper to Anzu, "Read this right here."  
  
--_Fortunately, none of the residents on Main or First Street have been harmed, though they are incredibly shocked and disturbed by the current situation. _--  
  
"Whew," breathed Anzu, relief flitting into her blue eyes, and she gave a tentative smile as she brushed her hair back, "Then Yuugi should be coming soon." 

* * *

Yuugi was walking past where he had been last night and gazed wistfully at the corner he had seen the five teenagers, "I wonder if they're okay..."  
  
Just then, as if on cue, he saw the teenager named Yami walk out the door of a shabby house. Shocked, Yuugi hesitated, habitually knowing to avoid this type of person, and stopped in his tracks. Yuugi blushed when he also noticed Yami was not wearing his black tank top that he was wearing the night before.  
  
"Fuck!! It's freezing!!" Yuugi heard Yami say.  
  
"Sorry," Malik said, leaning on the doorway, "But we can't seem to control the weather."  
  
"Shut up," shot back Yami, "Don't make me hurt you."  
  
"You're already slashed up enough, so don't make ME slash you up more."  
  
Yuugi cringed. He was rather confused on why he kept gravitating towards such a dangerous group of people. They were violent, insensitive, and unbound by restrictions. They did not go to school, Yuugi was sure, and did not look like they worked either. Rather curious on how they lived, Yuugi inched closer, vacillating when he caught sight of Bakura, leaning casually again the blonde, who looked rather irritated himself. 

Bracing himself, Yuugi took a deep breath to calm his jittery nerves.

* * *

"Hey, are you alright?" came a sweet little voice, just several feet away from him. 

Yami had not even sensed the other boy approaching. The wind blew his golden bangs into his face, Yami shaking his head to try and avoid the distractions. He was getting colder, yet he could not bring himself to retreat into the house. He jumped suddenly when Yuugi spoke, hugging himself with his arms even more to fend off the bitter weather. Seeing the amiable smile from the smaller boy, Yami backed up a little from the cute sight.  
  
"Yami, right?" Yuugi asked again, confirming the name, "Are you alright?" Yuugi repeated his question, frowning at Yami's bandaged chest.  
  
"Yes, I'm fine, little one," Yami said politely, immediately forgetting his earlier annoyance towards the duo behind him.  
  
Mai and Jou came out, suspicious when Yami, Bakura, and Malik had stopped arguing, therefore issuing in strange silence.  
  
"Oh!! It's the cute little doll!!" Mai almost squealed, bounding out the front door and hugging Yuugi.  
  
"Urk!" Yuugi squeaked, not used to being squeezed to death by the bigger girl.  
  
Yami's eyes narrowed, "… Mai. You're suffocating him."

Fortunately, before Yami took matters into his own hands, Mai had been detached by Jou, who looked rather embarrassed for Yuugi, who had turned a rather strange shade of red.

"Where are your clothes?" Yuugi asked shyly, slightly grateful that he was already red (he could blame it on Mai if needed). 

"Gone," shrugged Yami nonchalantly, trying to ignore Mai's rather loud conversation with Jou about how Yami was just '_jealous_'. "You could say I'm ready to freeze to death."  
  
Yuugi tilted his head for a second, giving the shirtless boy a sympathetic look, "Oh, that's horrible... I have an idea!"  
  
Yuugi struggled in his own dark red sweatshirt and wiggled out of it. He held it out to Yami, who stared speechlessly at the smaller boy, the quizzical look was clear in Yami's eyes.  
  
"Here!" Yuugi smiled cheerfully.  
  
"What? No," Yami pushed it back to Yuugi, "I couldn't... Ah-ah-ah-"  
  
"Oh, shit..." everyone muttered around Yuugi.  
  
"Ah-CHOOO!!!"  
  
Yami's hand flew over his mouth, his nose showing imminent signs of sickness if he didn't wear something soon.

"Bless you, dear," Mai said, looking amused as Yami rubbed his nose ruefully, "Looks like Yami's coming down with a cold."  
  
"Has Yami ever gotten sick?" Jou asked, scratching his head in search of a said memory.  
  
"No," Yami interrupted, "I've got the strongest immune system I know." Yami still sniffed, trying to clear up his sinuses, "Ugh."  
  
Yuugi laughed, a soft, but clear ringing sound of pure enjoyment, "Point proven!" he turned to Mai, blinking cutely, "Mai...??"  
  
Mai blinked back, feeling like she was being pulled magnetically into pools of lavender, "Ehh...yes, dear?"  
  
"Could you do something for me??" Yuugi smiled innocently, hugging his sweater to himself mischieviously at the same time.  
  
"Su-u-u-ure..."  
  
Yuugi gestured for her to lean down and whispered something into her ear.  
  
"O-o-oh," murmured Mai, "You're such a cute kid."  
  
"Here you go," Yuugi said, giving Mai the dark red sweatshirt, before he glanced at his watch, "Oh, shoot! I'm so late! I've got to go!"  
  
Yami watched the little teenager run down the street, before pivoting back to the blonde girl, "Mai - Um-mph!!!"  
  
The sweater was jammed none-too-gently over his head.  
  
"What the hell??" Yami spluttered, fighting against Mai, but losing because he was stuck halfway through the collar. Mai cared more for getting the job done, than getting it done well.  
  
"Put the sweater on like a good boy," Mai said grinning evilly, "Or, I'll have to borrow Malik's knife."  
  
Yami's eyes widened comically as Mai managed the pull the sweater down securedly, "You wouldn't, Mai."  
  
"Malik. The knife, if you please."  
  
Malik handed his knife to Mai wordlessly.  
  
"Alright!! You win!" Yami said, pulling his arms through the sweater, "You traitor."  
  
"What did you call me??" A knife accented the blonde's question.  
  
"I called you a lovely, caring, _very_ beautiful person," amended Yami, averting his eyes, wanting to hide at the moment.  
  
"Uh huh," Mai muttered, throwing the knife back to Malik, who skillfully caught it by the handle and tucked it away. Yami could not help but wonder how many knives Malik currently had on him.  
  
Bakura suddenly slapped his forehead, having been silent most of the time, "Fuck!! Don't tell me the little munchkin knows where we live now!"  
  
"... "  
  
"You think?" Malik said after the interval of silence.  
  
Mai blinked and then giggled.  
  
"What's so funny, Mai?" Jou asked, "It might be more of a problem."  
  
"No, I just thought..."  
  
"Thought what?" Yami asked cautiously, tugging at the sleeves of the warm sweater, having retained some heat from the previous owner. Yami grudgingly admitted he was going to get rather attached to the article of clothing as he snuggled into the sweater.  
  
"You guys look so much alike!"  
  
"We do?" Jou looked around incredulously, "Ya' don't mean I look like this psychotic maniac right here?" he pointed to Bakura.  
  
"We do??" Bakura's eyes widened, "No way my perfect looks can be compared to this ugly one right here," he nodded towards Yami, who glowered at him.  
  
"We do???" Malik yelled, "Are you kidding me, woman?? How could a creature as good-looking as me be compared to anyone here??"  
  
Yami rubbed his temples tiredly, "No, I think Mai just meant Yuugi kind of looks like me."  
  
"Oh…" the other three, looking disinterested.  
  
"Idiots, all of them," muttered Mai.  
  
"Conceited too," Yami laughed.  
  
"Wait... they do?"  
  
"Oh my _god_, you guys are so _stupid_!!" yelled Mai, walking back inside. 

* * *

Anzu jumped off the swing at the sight of bobbing tri-colored spikes. 

"Hey! There's Yuugi now!" Anzu waved at the jogging boy.

Slowing down and trying to catch his breath, Yuugi bent over and huffed, "Konnichiwa, minna! Sorry I'm so late!"

"No problem," Ryou responded as he dusted his pants off from resting on the sand. He had felt rather guilty for destroying the child's sand castle and was taking it upon himself to help rebuild it. The little boy gave Ryou a jack-o-lantern grin in return.

"Yeah, no problem – except that we were _worried to death_!!" Honda added with a friendly glare, then laughing at Yuugi's twisted expression between being ashamed or amused.

"Umm… thanks for caring?" chuckled Yuugi.

"Well, now that everyone's here… I need to tell you guys some… news," Honda said, quickly changing the subject.

"What is it?" Yuugi asked, becoming anxious when he saw Honda's regretful expression.

"The suspense…" Ryou dramatically joked, though he was waiting as patiently as the others.

"Yes, just spit it out," Anzu chirped, patting Honda on the back a little harder than normal, as if indicating that he should 'cough it up'.

"I'm moving."

Three pairs of eyes blinked silently at him.

"Oh! To where?" Yuugi asked innocently, "A new house? We can help you move into ---"

"---No," Honda interrupted, looking sadly at Yuugi's optimism, "I'm moving _away_."

"You're kidding," Anzu said flatly, giving a calculating stare at her friend, "Where are you moving to?"

"New York."

"What? Why?" Yuugi exclaimed, his violet eyes flashing at the realization, "You're leaving in the middle of the school year? That… that… just _sucks_!!"

Ryou, having been silent for most of the announcement, looked surprised at Yuugi, "Nice choice of words."

Yuugi managed a weak laugh, "Well…" he turned his attention back to Honda, "But New York is so far away!!"

"Dad got a really, really good job offer," Honda explained weakly, trying to shrug it off, "You would think that I couldn't get any richer," he joked humorlessly, "I'm leaving tomorrow."

"_WHA-A-A-A-AT_???"

The deadline was far too soon for the three friends, and their surprise reverberated through the park, making little kids flinch at the sound.

Honda rubbed his neck nervously and chuckled, "Heh. Well, aren't you guys glad I told you then?" which earned him three hits on his head from his frustrated friends.

"Baka."

"Idiot."

"Stupid."

"I don't have my New York address yet," Honda mused, "But I promise to write to you guys as soon as I get there," he reassured.

"Good."

"You better."

"… We're going to miss you." 

* * *

**A/N**: Revising this chapter was a pain, and I've realized I'll have to do this for 14 more chapters… My writing just isn't good!

(1): Kieki means 'Profit'.

And no, Honda is not going to disappear entirely from my story. I just might bring him into play later.

Please review! I need to know if my story is okay… hopefully getting better? =.= I think it's gotten worse...


	3. Chapter 3: Caught in the Middle of Troub...

**A/N:** I completely revamped chapter three. It's very different, but that's what revisions are for. _Please_ tell me what you think; I really need to know.

* * *

Sweet Perfected Naivety Meets Its Counterpart 

Chapter 3: Caught in the Middle of Trouble

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

Malik stood in the small kitchen, slowly washing the used dishes. He usually ended up doing this because he couldn't stand the clutter in the sink. Plus, he figured no one really knew how. Jou was practically incompetent with housekeeping. Bakura just didn't have the patience to do "such a woman's job". Mai just _wasted_ the detergent. Yami managed to do it a few times when he saw it, but Yami rarely went into the kitchen and was usually pondering over the due payments. In fact, someone had to put food in front of him and coax him to eat or he wouldn't notice.

After he finished drying the last plate, Malik checked the house, hoping to find Bakura, Jou, Mai, or Yami. Malik snapped his fingers, realizing everyone must have gone out before he woke up. Apparently he was the only one who decided it would be a good day to sleep in.

"Let's see..." Malik ticked off the others on his fingers, "Mai said she'd drop by the supermarket with Jou. Bakura... he could be anywhere, actually. But he knows I'm staying in today so he won't do anything exciting without me. And knowing Yami, a prostitution ring probably recruited him or something."

If the house was bigger, Malik's voice would have echoed. Malik glared at the empty space around him, but suddenly heard someone sneaking behind him. He would have guessed that it was Bakura, but the steps sounded a little different. Malik couldn't figure out what it was that unnerved him about it.

Trying to look occupied, Malik stared sullenly out the long-time broken window as he reached for the blade he had secured on his forearm. When he was sure the person had stopped right behind him, Malik turned sharply, weapon in hand, but was perfectly countered by the other.

Malik's attacking arm was grabbed, and a cloth was held to his mouth and nose. His eyes focused on dark eyes before his senses were clouded over with the gaseous drug. As his muscles relaxed, his blade dropped with a clatter, and his body dropped forward toward the ground.

And everything went out like a light.

* * *

"Remind me again... _how_ did I get stuck with you?"

Jou rolled his eyes, as he ambled through the plumbing aisle in the hardware store. Bakura followed airily behind him, his vigilant eyes darting between the skittish customers and security cameras.

"'Cause we need something 'dat looks like 'dis," Jou explained, fishing a cracked cylinder out of his jacket pocket.

"You don't say..." Bakura replied sarcastically, reaching out and quickly grabbing the piece of metal out of Jou's hand, "This is taking forever – I'll do it."

Jou raised an eyebrow as the other quickly stalked toward the nearest store employee. The blonde warily watched as the employee was jerked around and berated for not paying attention when they were supposed to be doing a job. Wincing, Jou backed himself away, quickly moving himself down about three aisles – where he could still hear strings of Bakura's vitriolic language.

"Nii-sama?!"

Jou turned his head down the aisle and nearly fainted from shock.

Mokuba Kaiba. The twelve-year-old was running down the aisle, a small bonsai tree clutched in his hands.

"_Sumimasen ga_ [Excuse me, but]... have you seen someone about..." the boy stopped in front of Jou and waved his hand as high as he could reach (which wasn't much higher than Jou), "... _this_ tall – maybe taller... brown hair, blue eyes... "

Mentally slapping himself to pay attention to the youngest Kaiba who was talking to him, Jou shook his head in response. It didn't take a genius to figure out whom the kid was describing.

Jou hadn't the fortunate (or unfortunate) experience of meeting the infamous Seto Kaiba. The senior in high school was the CEO of his own company – Kaiba Corporation, which could run the entire city if it so strived to. As Jou had heard, Seto Kaiba was the typical businessman – exceptionally diligent, strongly influential, and highly intelligent.

Now, the seventeen-year-old CEO did happen to have a few exceptions to the business world stereotypes.

Exception #1: Seto Kaiba, as young as he is, did not play the naïve card – he could, quite well, make grown men whimper in fear.

Exception #2: Seto Kaiba had yet to engage in social and political corruption.

Exception #3: Seto Kaiba was drop-dead gorgeous. And single.

Unfortunately, Jou had become oddly _intrigued_, per say, when he learned about Seto Kaiba. When the brunette had taken over his foster father's business – he had altered it greatly. Instead of using mass amounts of money on research and creation of nuclear and war arsenal, the new CEO had dropped it all in a heartbeat. Seto Kaiba had chosen a down-to-earth dream – a child's dream – based on the overly popular game Duel Monsters.

"Well --" Jou started to say, before he was interrupted.

"Oh! There he is!" Mokuba turned and withdrew from Jou, running to meet his older brother, "Thanks anyway!"

Jou followed the energetic, artless child with his eyes, back to the tall brunette – who looked like he was trying to keep from being mauled by his younger brother. Maneuvering behind the shelf, Jou peered secretly at the CEO, who was dressed in everyday clothes, but still had the flare of intimidation with the long black coat.

_"Oh, please, Nii-sama?! You can keep it in your office or something!"_

_"Mokuba, I don't need a tree on my desk..."_

_"But... it's **cute**."_

_"... I know."_

_"Can't I at least get it for you? You can... throw it away if you don't want it... I want to get it though!"_

An amused voice chuckled right behind Jou's ear, "You look like an idiot."

Jou recoiled, hitting his head against the back of the shelf.

"Ow! Shit, Bakura!"

Laughing evilly, Bakura tossed a new cylinder back and forth between his hands, the hardware occasionally disappearing as Bakura played with.

"Come _on_. Let's go," Bakura grinned, flashing his empty hands before nodding at the exit, surprisingly not teasing Jou any longer.

As they walked out the store, Jou glanced back and smiled as he saw Seto Kaiba purchasing the bonsai tree at the result of his brother's pleading.

"You still look like an idiot."

Jou gave Bakura a withering look, which the other pointedly ignored.

"... By the way, Bakura... did we pay for that?"

"Does it look like we did?"

* * *

Mai shifted the large brown bag in her arms, her fingers fingering the single key, trying to get it in the correct position in the keyhole. Biting her bottom lip, she tilted herself to the left, breathing a sign of relief when the key slid through and turned the lock.

"_Tadaima_. [I'm home.]"

Passing the couch on the way to the kitchen, Mai rolled her eyes when she caught sight of a motionless sprawled figure on the furniture.

'_4 P.M. and he's out cold_.'

She finished putting away the perishables in the miniature refrigerator, giving the machine an absent pat, before she stored the cereal and cans in the cubby-sized cabinet. As she left the kitchen, Mai gingerly sat down on the old homemade table, crossing her legs and leaning her right elbow on her knee. Her head dropped in a quizzical sense onto her open palm, as she eyed the young man asleep on the couch.

"Yami... you'll be the only man I'll ever know who sleeps with bills," Mai said softly, reaching out with her free hand to gently sweep the papers and envelopes off the other's flat abdomen. She stacked the papers and placed them beside her on the table.

She picked up the fallen checkbook and flipped to the mathematical figures in the beginning. They were doing okay – it could be better – but relatively safe until the summer. If any of them maintained a mundane job for at least two weeks, it would probably help relieve the stress of the diminishing spending money though.

Mai flipped a coin, snatching it out of the air with a good-humored smirk, "Time to get a copy of the Classified."

* * *

The sun was close to setting when Bakura and Jou walked through the front door.

Yami looked up from the classified page he was reading, staring at both of them until they closed the door.

"What?" Bakura asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"... Where is Malik?"

"I haven't seen him all day," Jou offered, as he toed off his shoes.

Mai peered out from the bathroom, a toothbrush tucked to one side of her mouth so she could talk, "Where have you two been all day?"

"I was lecturing Jou on the art of stalking," Bakura simply stated, giving his wrist a flick, the piece of metal falling neatly into his waiting hand. The said cylinder was tossed to Mai, who caught it with a frown before retreating to put it on the tiled countertop.

"Please. Don't ask," the blonde glared at the retreating back of Bakura, who headed to the room his shared with his missing friend.

"That's strange..." Yami said vaguely turning back to the monotonous newspaper ads, as Bakura disappeared into the small bedroom.

As Jou went to check the new inventory that Mai had bought this afternoon, Bakura walked back out with a vexed frown. Yami looked up again, watching the white-haired teen walk out the back door, only to return in a few minutes. Mai stepped out the bathroom, just as Bakura shouldered past her, scrutinizing the bathroom; he returned to the living room, where the other three had settled – all giving him a strange look that clearly stated, '_What the hell are you doing?_'

Mai glanced at Bakura, where she was showing Jou an ad that needed someone to walk their four dogs daily for the next month, before she spoke, "You're looking worried, Bakura." Her light tone held a teasing edge.

Bakura's normally dark brown eyes flashed with a glint of red, as he crossed his arms. He paced the perimeter of the small room, disregarding Mai's comment with a small exhale. He knelt down below the window and picked up one of Malik's knives. It was just lying on the floor, looking very incongruous with the bare floor. Clenching the handle in his hand, Bakura turned around to face the group, a murderous look residing in place of his previously forced equanimity.

"... What's wrong?" Yami asked cautiously, getting up slowly.

"Well..." Bakura began, tapping the flat side of the blade against his palm as if contemplating something, "Malik said he was definitely staying home today – said he felt really tired last night. He was sleeping in this morning."

"Oh... _shit_."

"Shit's right."

* * *

"Perhaps we shouldn't have stayed out so late," Ryou said, inching even closer to Yuugi as they walked home. The other stayed silent, trying to stay calm, but quickened his pace when he saw a bar further up the street.

"True," Yuugi trembled, "But, think about it. We won't be seeing Honda for months, or at least until the next school break."

A group of inebriated college students leered at them as they ventured pass the dilapidated establishment. One wobbled to his feet, eyeing the anxious couple.

"Oh, shoot!" Ryou squeaked, one hand gripping Yuugi's upper arm.

"K-keep walking," Yuugi managed to say, grimacing slightly at Ryou's urgent hold.

A foreign hand spun Ryou around forcefully, though more uncontrollable strength as opposed to violent strength. Ryou stumbled, off balance, alerting Yuugi of trouble.

"Hey," the college student grinned, "I think I know you from somewhere."

"... I don't think so," Ryou lied, a weak smile crossing his face, the hand behind his back groping for Yuugi's for moral support, "I... I think you're... not thinking clearly."

Truthfully, now that Ryou looked closely, he did recognize the other boy. Now in college, the boy had been a senior when Ryou transferred to this city. How did Ryou remember such a nebulous figure in his life? At that time, the senior had assumed Ryou was a girl.

"No..." the older teen stepped closer, the scent of alcohol permeating Ryou's nose, "I could recognize that girly hair anywhere."

Simultaneously, Yuugi's hand slid into Ryou's damp hand, giving it a jerk as the tri-colored hair boy began to run, as Ryou hit the drunk teen's face with his palm – hard enough to start the flow of blood, but too light to actually break the nose.

The force of Yuugi's sprint instigated a rough start for Ryou, but he managed to pull himself together after the first few uneven jerks of his arm as Yuugi ran ahead, dragging him along. With a few unintelligible monosyllable sounds to indicate the pain in his arm, Ryou pulled Yuugi back, the two of them slowing to a walk as their parting destination approached.

"Pull my arm off, will you?" Ryou accused good-naturedly, rubbing his shoulder, as the two boys separated.

Yuugi panted slightly, shooting an indignant look at Ryou, and shook his head. Sometimes Ryou's random mood variations scared him - from timid to amiable in 0.2 minutes.

"Call me the second you get home," Yuugi demanded, each unwilling to leave the other to walk home alone, because of the escalated chances lately of getting hurt of killed. But since Ryou turned down a different street, Yuugi had to settle with watching his friend's lithe figure disappear down the faintly lit street, before bracing himself to get home himself.

Yuugi finally reached the large taped-off site on Main Street. Looking timidly into the calm, yet eerie, muted area on the street, he vaguely saw something move slightly. Almost scared to death, yet wanting to check out what it was, Yuugi walked towards the darker side of the area. He ducked under the yellow caution tape, and moved as quietly as he could towards where he had spotted movement.

He was only several feet away from the desired spot, hoping to be able to clearly see what had caught his attention. Surprisingly, the area around him was now almost pitch dark, so it was even harder to see where he was walking. Fortunately, he brushed against the wall and decided to use it for guidance.

Squinting, he began to see a clear outline of two people as he grew accustomed to the black atmosphere. In fact, one had the other pressed against the wall. Yuugi moved even closer and stifled a gasp of surprise.

One of the two figures bore an uncanny resemblance to Yami.

* * *

"So, are you going to answer or not?"

Yami's voice matched the dangerous situation – quiet and deadly. The other gangster remained reticent, quivering in the process as the knife was held firmly to his throat, threatening his silence. Yami moved the knife to the jugular vein – one slash at the important artery and the man would be a goner.

"You will tell me where he is – and maybe I'll even let you go," Yami said coldly, his other hand gripping the other's shoulder tightly.

The gang member nervously darted his watery eyes, and seemed to stare right into Yuugi's eyes. Yuugi shrunk closer to the wall, but the other noticed the shift and discovered Yuugi's location.

Trying to press himself further away from Yami's blade, the man, unable to laugh, still smirked triumphantly and muttered, "You've been caught."

Yami's eyes were set on the other's smile, which began to fade – until Yami switched his hold on the blade so the flat side rested on the man's pulsing vein.

"Really?" Yami said apathetically, giving the other a chilling smile himself, "You move and you die."

Yuugi could not understand why the man did not knock Yami's arm away, but under closer inspection, Yuugi found that both the gang member's arms were useless. One was swollen – most likely fractured from some kind of fighting – while the second one had been cut to the shallow bone. Yuugi was amazed that the man was not in shock from all the pain he must be in.

"You better come out _now_," Yami ordered, staring into the shadows where he heard the smallest shuffle.

Yami released his hold on the man's shoulder and reached behind his back. He grasped his second knife he had under his sweatshirt, which had been strapped securely to the small of his back. He angled his knife until the edge was touching the other's neck, stilling any fidgeting.

A small figure became evident. Soon, Yami was able to depict a pair of darkened violet eyes peering at him fearfully.

"... Yuugi??"

* * *

Malik moaned softly, rolling over as his consciousness began to return. As he opened his eyes, it was completely dark around him. Only a small sliver of dim light came from beneath the door. Trying to feel around himself, he discovered his hands had been tied together tightly with a strip of cloth. Each of his ankles had been roped to posts of some kind. He was lying on a soft mattress – which meant he was tied to a bed with bedposts.

Uncomfortable with the awkward position his arms were tied in, Malik struggled to sit up. As he did, a nauseous feeling rolled through him and his head felt like he had just inhaled water. Gritting his teeth and refusing to whimper, Malik groaned and shook his head. What was going on?

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck._ I'm in deep shit," whispered Malik, not quite remembering the details, but knowing he needed to get _out_ before anything else happened.

As he tugged on his bonds, the door opened on his left, spilling weak light on his frantic movements. Malik blinked like a deer in the headlights as the black silhouette of a person walked in, shutting the door behind him. The room plunged back into darkness, and the distinct sound of locking cut through the stillness. A lamp next to the bed was turned on, blinding Malik as he turned his head to alleviate the pain in his eyes.

Recovering, Malik turned back with a death glare, taking a good look at the foolish idiot who was about to die – once he got out of his bonds.

"Malik," his kidnapper purred, crawling on the bed, "It's _so_ nice to see you again."

* * *

****

**A/N:** _Please review!_


	4. Chapter 4: Why Does It Hurt?

**A/N: **_I have SPNMIC back!_ A HUMONGOUS** THANK YOU **TO:

_**Chibi B-channie**_

_**Ragna01**_

**_Tara.B Amy_**

_**Sansi**_

_**Akira S.**_

This is your cue to go stalk them. Aside from that, I just want to thank you five most wonderful people for backing up SPNMIC. _You saved me from a lot of heartache_ and, in turn, made me very, _very_ happy and grateful. I never knew I could have such great readers.

If there is _anything_ that I can do for you four, just let me know. I can do requests for fics (or chapters) or art, but I warn you – I'm not very good at writing or drawing… **but whatever it is, just ask!**

I can't believe how much genuine sympathy I received, and it really helped me get back to writing (seeing as I was absolutely paranoid to write something new). Thank you, thank you, thank you. I couldn't possible ask for more. (I force-wrote chapter 4 of my Vegas story, but I got over the block, at least. XD)

I love you guys.

I decided I would keep that Bakura x Ryou scene as is, and have chosen it to start chapter four. Time for things to start rolling. This chapter is also **very edited**.

* * *

Sweet Perfected Naivety Meets Its Counterpart 

Chapter 4: Why Does It Hurt?

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

Agitation never settled well with Bakura. No, he always left the worrying to Yami, who had grown so accustomed to fretting beneath a weakening façade. When Bakura was concerned about something, the feeling bothered him so much he would end up steaming with anger; anger toward the said object of anxiety, anger toward life, and mostly, anger toward himself. 

Of course, Bakura never was very good at controlling his anger.

He tried frequently to work with his sensible side, but failed. He knew he was careless when upset, and that was another problem. There was no need to clarify. He already had established that he was full of problems.

So, the gang decided to split up on the quest to recover Malik. They all knew Bakura needed space, and a lot of it. Yami had taken to the quarantined street of the last fight, hoping to reconnoiter the area for any clues. Jou had left for the dark alleys leading to the dirtier downtown areas. Mai headed for the main street for business, markets, and shops.

Bakura?

He chose to survey the rich, a conveniently larger area for burning off his suppressed anger.

For years, he and Malik lived so close to the 'nice civilization.' It would be unnatural if they did not know the area like they knew the backs of their hands. Plus, it was a great way to play with expensive security technology.

The only annoying thing about the rich was the size of their houses.

It took forever for the two to get on a rooftop. Early attempts were fun memories, if not a little embarrassing.

But tonight, he needed to be up high. As high as possible, without breaking a leg or setting off an alarm.

About a good half mile down the street, Bakura spotted a dark house, save for one light in an upstairs room. Scrutinizing the house, he felt it was possible to scale, if he could avoid any outdoor lights or security cameras. Glancing around him, Bakura slowly took in his settings. The great thing about the rich was that the houses were so big that neighbors were a good distance away. Perfect.

He hefted a few small stones from the bordering garden and heaved them in different directions, instantly triggering the automatic lights. The lights nearly blinded him, but stopped short of where he was standing. As a matter of fact, one light looked like it had burnt out. Quirking an eyebrow at the carelessness of the owner, Bakura gave a mental shrug and slipped into the shadows alongside the house. Holding still until his eyes adjusted, he was dumbstruck when he found himself standing next to a ladder.

The house was just looking for a burglary, but that was the last thing on Bakura's agenda.

Warily, he followed the ladder with his eyes until it ended, right at the edge of the roof. If this night was as lucky as it was beginning to look, Bakura was sure his best friend was perfectly intact. Not like Bakura was assuming anything.

Bakura narrowed his eyes, and with a second glance around him, he scaled the ladder swiftly until he was able to pull himself up across the tilted edge. A dull scraping sound followed this action. He froze.

After a tense half minute, Bakura excruciatingly pulled himself higher up, trying to make as little movement as possible. His luck just ran out.

The curtains in the lit window he barely noticed on his way up were pulled aside, and Bakura could see the light falling on the grass below on the ground. The window was pushed open tentatively by what Bakura depicted from listening.

He was about ready to pretend he was a cat when he heard the softest tone waver.

"… Is someone out here…?"

Balanced precariously along the edge, Bakura leaned as far as he could allow himself to glance curiously at the lone figure shadowed within light on the grass below.

_So it's just a kid_, Bakura thought with a triumphant grin. Good, he could get to scanning the entire area from the rooftop.

However, even the bird's eye view of a very good portion of the streets gave Bakura nothing to work with. Although, Bakura could not help but think that when Malik did get back, he would have to show his friend this great place for sightseeing.

With much disappointment, Bakura slowly climbed back down the ladder when he made sure the figure below in the upstairs room was away from the window. Strangely, the curtains were still drawn away, letting the light continue to shed in a beam from the glass window.

Curiosity killed the cat and all, but for Bakura, satisfaction always brought it back.

Cautiously, he twisted his head to glance through the window at the person who had opened the window before, though now closed.

First, there was a neatly made bed. On the bed was a stack of textbooks and an open backpack. But there, sitting at the desk with an open binder, book and calculator in front of him, was a teenager anxiously twirling a pencil between pale, slim fingers. At first glance, Bakura mistook the slender figure as a girl, but there were obviously a lack of breasts. Another glance caught sight of the school jacket and slacks hung neatly on the doorknob of the bedroom. It was the long white tresses that brushed the other's lower back that had told Bakura otherwise, but he himself should know better that long hair never designated only a female anymore.

As the soft-looking boy on the other side of the glass seemed to heave a sigh and write something across lined paper, Bakura pulled away from the window and began to climb down the ladder, absently thinking of the blank, tired brown eyes he had been staring at. Thoughts quickly turned from the eyes to the smooth curve of the other's cheek and mouth that had been worrying its bottom lip.

And Bakura slipped.

Years of experience had taught Bakura to catch himself, allowing him to totter off the ladder the last few steps in an ungraceful manner, but when he landed on the ground, Bakura stopped to gratefully catch his breath.

That was until the shadow again appeared in the window. Bakura flattened himself against the wall right below the window, which, this time, did not dare open. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.

The curtains were replaced, cutting off the light source. The yard plunged into darkness, and Bakura quickly took his leave.

-

And as Ryou settled back down to do his chemistry homework so late at night, he could not help but wonder if his eyes were playing tricks on him. But he dismissed it as too many missed hours of sleep from school.

* * *

Mai had returned early and had anxiously waited for nearly an hour until Jou had entered through their back door. 

"Didn't find him either, huh?

Mai pushed herself off the couch, shaking her head. She checked the clock for the umpteenth time.

It was nearly midnight.

"I never could see Malik window-shopping at this hour," Mai said quietly to Jou, "But… _where could he be?_" She finally yelled, letting loose her tension.

She wretched open their front door and began to pace angrily outside on the street. Two minutes later, Jou stepped outside with a glass of water in hand. With his free hand, he held Mai immobile in mid-step via her shoulder and passed her the cup. Shakily, she took a few gulps before giving it back.

Jou sat down, setting the glass next to him, and Mai finally joined him with an audible 'hmph'.

"Bakura'll find him," Jou finally said, breaking the silence, "If it's any of us that could do it… it's Bakura."

"I suppose-"

"Don't count on it," came the brusque voice of Bakura.

Bakura would have laughed seeing both their expressions drop had he not felt the same disappointment. However, it still did not stop him from taking out a little anger.

"What are you two _doing, _letting your guard down? Are you even paying any attention to what's going on? I could have killed you both in about fifteen seconds. If they got Malik, they could easily get you too!"

In the process of his rant, he had taken out Malik's dropped knife and thrown it at Jou's head. The teen barely flinched, and the blade ended up pinned to the front door, about two inches above Jou's blonde head.

"They?" Mai asked, with an eyebrow raised.

"Other groups, obviously," Bakura answered with a rolling of his eyes, "Have you decided to become brain-dead?"

"We just sort of thought you would bring back Malik," Jou replied quietly, pulling at the sharp instrument from the door.

"Where's ever-brilliant Yami?" Bakura snarled bitterly, pointedly ignoring Jou's comment, which, in truth, he should have been able to do. "He's supposed to be the first one back."

Mai straightened with an alarmed look on her pretty face, "That true. Where _is_ he?"

Jou fiddled with the knife, "My god. Are they kidnapping all the pretty ones first?"

"You idiot."

"Not funny," Mai added.

"No, I'm not worried about Yami," Jou stated firmly, getting to his feet, tossing the knife back to Bakura. When Mai moved to get up as well, a panicked look in her violet eyes, Jou patted her gently on the shoulder, motioning her to keep seated. "I'll go check up on him. If I'm not back in half an hour, send in a rescue team."

"Literally?"

"No. I meant, send in Bakura."

* * *

Yuugi approached Yami cautiously, half of him wanting to turn tail and run and the other half wanting to know what in the world was going on. Yami narrowed his eyes when Yuugi reached him, "Is that really you?" he asked suspiciously. 

"It's me," Yuugi voice quavered, confirming the other's question.

"_What are you doing here?_" Yami hissed, trying his best to mask his emotions, in fear of the man he was holding hostage to sense any weaknesses.

"I saw something and came over to investigate," Yuugi answered, studying the scene before him and peering fearfully at the man pressed against the wall.

Unknown to Yami, who had his attention on Yuugi, the man's balance began to shift onto one leg. At first, Yuugi had thought it was from the excruciating pain from his useless arms, but Yuugi soon realized what he was planning before Yami could even blink.

"WATCH OUT!" Yuugi cried out suddenly, trying to alert Yami.

Without a second thought, Yuugi pushed Yami as hard as he could, making the older teenager swing off balanced to one side. Unfortunately, Yuugi took Yami's place when he shoved him, and the man lashed out at Yuugi, landing a kick one the petite boy's side. Yuugi cried out in pain, thrown back from the force, and skidded on the floor, stopping only when he hit the base of a dark streetlight.

"What the-!" Yami's bewildered voice sounded quite a distance away, along with footsteps running from the scene.

Breathing painfully, Yuugi lay curled on the ground, bracing himself as stabbing pain on the left side of his body rendered him near senseless and nauseous. Squeezing his eyes shut, hot tears escaped and slid down his face as he tried to relax and bear the pain. He wanted to gasp for air, but it hurt too much. He would die than risk moving from his current position.

A tentative touch on his shoulder, then, "Yuugi… are you okay?"

Yuugi wanted to shake his head, he really did, but did not find the strength to. He was afraid he would lose his stomach if he opened his mouth. Sure, he was used to bruises now and then, but never have the rich bullies broken anything and risk being sued for all they owned.

"I'm sorry," Yami apologized awkwardly, unsure what to do, "It was my fault. I should have known he would try that."

Not particularly listening, Yuugi felt the initial wave pass, and he took a few shallow inhales of air, wincing at the stab of intense pain when he breathed too deeply.

"… D-do…" Yuugi winced, "Is… broken?" he managed to say, cringing at the incoherency.

"Most likely," Yami said softly, trying to sort out their options, "He probably thought he would break my ribs, not yours."

Yami pulled Yuugi away from the streetlight, as gently as he could. Cradling the teen with one arm, Yami propped him up against himself, supporting Yuugi as comfortably as possible. Feeling excessively like he was violating the other's space, Yami slid his hand beneath Yuugi's shirt, tracing his backbone, which turned out to be bruised at the base from hitting the streetlight, due to Yuugi's suppressed groan.

"Sorry about this," Yami murmured, shifting so he could work Yuugi's shirt upwards.

"… U-uh…" Yuugi's heartbeat was speeding up, and it was not helping with his breathing problem.

Running his hand down Yuugi's side, Yami frowned when he felt a distinctly swollen area, "_Fuck_. **Damn** him."

"It's oka-"

"This is going to hurt. I'm not going to tell you it won't," Yami said quickly, his fingers still brushing lightly against Yuugi's side.

Of course, the first thing that came to Yuugi's mind was '_What are you going to do!_' but he was not in the condition to voice his concerns. Yami began to apply harder pressure. Yuugi cried out in pain, violently flinching against Yami's warm body. The older teen immediately stopped.

"It's broken. I'm really sorry," Yami finally stated, trying to replace Yuugi's shirt back in place without jostling him. He hugged Yuugi a little closer, feeling guilty for the other's labored breathing.

"S'okay…" Yuugi slurred before going limp.

_Oh my god, I killed him?_ Yami thought with extreme horror. Then, thinking logically (though it was rather difficult), he figured Yuugi must have passed out from the pain.

Light steps stopped in front of the two, and Yami lifted his head to see Jou crouch next to Yuugi's motionless body. "Couldn't resist copping a feel, huh?"

Yami scowled, not in the mood for jokes, "Shut up."

"Okay, okay," Jou said, holding up his hands in defeat, "But we have to get back 'cause Mai's going to have kittens soon from stress."

Yami picked up Yuugi with care, positioning Yuugi's head against his shoulder to prevent him from waking up with a cramped neck. He was worried, yet grateful that Yuugi was unconscious, and therefore, could not feel the pain anymore.

"How's the kid?" Jou finally asked as they walked down the dark street.

"Broken ribs," Yami replied, his grip tightening. He had to will himself to relax, lest ending up bruising Yuugi in additional places. "Is Malik back?"

Jou shook his head and ran a hand through his messy blond hair.

"What a mess," Yami said quietly, shaking his head, "If Malik is… killed…"

"Don't talk about it," Jou warned, as Mai caught sight of them and ran over.

* * *

"_YOU!_" Malik hissed hatefully, pulling harder at the bonds around his wrists, "You fucking bastard! _UGH!_" He struggled before collapsing back against the soft mattress with a frustrated groan. Apparently, he still could not sit up without vertigo. That, however, did not stop his mouth, "You, you… why the fuck would you want me here?" 

"'You'? Is that all I get?" his captor asked amusedly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

Malik was not entertained, "You mother fucker, _let me go!_"

"My name, if you please."

A grimace of displeasure marred Malik's usually attractive features. With a burning glare, he carefully enunciated, "_Ma-ri-ku._"

The other grinned.

"Okay, _bitch!_ Let me go!" Malik attempted to sit up after the very-much threatening command, but ended up losing his sight as a wave of dizziness hit him. He was getting sick and tired of this helplessness. Again, he ended up on his back, only to have his wrists held above his head.

Familiar position, if not a little intimidating.

"That was nearly convincing. It would have worked if you didn't look completely defenseless," Mariku's eyes gleamed triumphantly, one hand holding Malik's wrists against the sheets and the other tracing the soft curve of Malik's cheek.

"What? Going to torture me because you couldn't at the last fight?" Malik breathed, paying no attention to the caress along his face. "Nice touch with the bondage whatnot. Pity we don't fuck."

"Not a mutual decision."

"Excuse me?" Malik raised an eyebrow, "I don't remember you having an opinion in this matter."

"Stop it," Mariku snapped, irritation finally manifesting with the darkening his indigo eyes, "You suck _shit_ at pretending."

Pure fury exploded within Malik, his lavender orbs blazed and he nearly broke his wrists from pulling so hard, "_I stop it? **I** stop?_ Look whose talking, asshole! _You're_ the one who ended up on the other team. _You're _the one who was pretending to be someone else. _You're _the one who tricked me. You're… you're…"

Lips pressed against Malik's heatedly, successfully cutting off the rest of the outburst. However, Malik made a noise of restlessness from the back of his throat and turned his head, thus forcing separation. Averting his gaze to the wall, Malik closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, gathering his thoughts. Silence infused the room.

"I really liked you," Malik grudgingly admitted a moment later, lowering his eyes, "But this is over. Let me go."

Mariku narrowed his eyes, "Don't do this." Still, he worked to undo the cloth around Malik's wrists.

Once free, Malik gingerly sat up, rubbing his head and quietly bent down to undo the strap around his left ankle.

"No," came Mariku's stubborn response to Malik's silence.

Malik sighed as he felt the Mariku's hand tilt his chin up, locking their eyes. For that reason, Malik closed his eyes. Mariku kissed him again, though slowly this time, as if trying to convince Malik that he was wrong. When Malik felt the other's tongue brushing across the seam of his closed lips, he pulled away.

"We're enemies. You have your gang, and I have… I have my family, okay?" Malik stated, beginning to feel the foolish need to take a moment to cry in a closet.

"Not okay," Mariku replied, pushing Malik back onto the bed firmly before taking a recognizable position above him. From there, Mariku bent forward and began to suck on a highly sensitive area on Malik's neck, previously discovered.

"Mariku, no…" Malik's resolve, unfortunately, was dissolving rapidly as the other licked the shell of his ear.

"I want you." A nibble on his earlobe accentuated the tacit request. "Don't fight me."

That was when Malik realized one of his ankles was still restricted.

* * *

"Ideas, Yami?" Mai asked, after Yuugi was deposited on the couch, still in a comatose state. 

"I don't know where he lives," Yami replied, with a shake of his head.

As if on cue, a clear ring was emitted from Yuugi's pocket. All four teenagers jumped. The cell phone continued to sound. It wasn't until two rings that Bakura had acted, snatching the phone from the pocket and answering it with an ever-so lovely "What do you want?"

Yes, Bakura never bothered much with good manners.

There was a pause as the other line paid no mind and responded with something that took a great deal of time. The other three look curiously at Bakura's confused expression.

With a skeptical look on his face, Bakura turned to the others and said, "He says he completely forgot to call me and finished his chemistry homework before realizing it. And he got home safely. Oh, and if I was mad that he called this late."

"… _Who_?" Jou finally managed to ask.

"Hmm… now that you ask, I don't know," Bakura looked thoughtful and returned his attention to the phone, "Hey, I don't know who you are."

/_…_/ The other line was silent, and then /_Where is Yuugi?_/

"Oh, the shrimp," Bakura nodded to himself, getting himself strange looks from the others, suddenly finding this situation rather amusing among the grave problem at hand, "He's over here. Broke a few things, yes, but you didn't ask that, did you?"

/_Y-you kidnapped him?_/

Strangely, Bakura found the voice similar to one he heard in the past. It was beginning to bother him, thus initiated an angry demeanor. "Don't fucking accuse me! I wouldn't want to do anything with him _anyway!_"

By now, Yami had the sense to wrestle the phone from Bakura's possession.

"I'm sorry, but Yuugi got hurt trying to help me. I'm Yami, and I don't know where I could possibly take him for help. He has broken ribs."

/_… He lives at the game shop on First Street._/

"We'll be there," Yami promised, giving Bakura a hard stare. The person on the other line had all the right to be suspicious after talking to _Bakura_. However, it was lucky that the high school student was also very kind.

/_…I'm warning you, I'm going over there right now and we'll have the police on speed dial if you try anything…_/

"I'd have an ambulance on speed dial, in all honesty," Yami replied, "But… thank you."

Unexpectedly, Bakura came up behind Yami and snatched the phone away from the shorter teen, "Hey, who _are _you, you brat?"

/_… You need anger management_./

There was an audible click, and Bakura glared daggers at the phone. The kid hung up on him!

Though, now was not the time to let something like that get to him. Yami shook his head when Jou went to pick up Yuugi. With the same care as before, Yami lifted the motionless body.

"Where to?" Jou asked, holding the door open. "Should we come?"

Yami shook his head, "It's fine, he lives right there. Game shop," Yami jerked his head toward the general direction of First Street, the lighted end of their dark street.

Jou gaped soundlessly. Mai blinked. Bakura scoffed – he was sick and tired of rich folk at the moment.

"He's _that_ rich?" Jou choked out.

"Wow, I would have never guessed," Mai murmured, tilting her head as she studied Yuugi's face, which twitched.

Yami shifted, instinctively holding Yuugi more tightly against himself. It would naturally be a little scary to wake up in pain without someone near you, of course. With a shake of his head, he turned and walked away.

"I'm learning new things every day," Jou laughed sheepishly, "I never would have taken little guy as loaded. You know… rich people have that flair, with the tailored clothes and limos."

"Like Seto Kaiba, right Jou?" Bakura slyly inputted as nonchalantly as possible, trying to hide a malicious smirk.

"Exactly," Jou replied resolutely, before he realized he fell into another one of Bakura's traps.

Mai smiled sweetly, "Is this Kaiba guy cute, Jou?"

"… Nice try, guys."

The two sighed.

"Wait…" Bakura looked up, "Speaking of stalking –"

"I do not stalk Seto Kaiba!"

Mai shot Jou a doubtful look, "Bakura never said you did."

"What if…" Bakura ignored Jou's slipup, seeing as he had an idea, "Someone is stalking Malik?"

"It's possible," Mai responded, "But I haven't seen any new or old suspicious faces around."

"Still, I wouldn't rule it out…"

* * *

When Malik had finally abandoned reasoning, the next couple of hours flew by in a messy blur. He was getting so tired, he could barely remember how many times they had sex. In fact, Mariku was still in him, pressed against his back, as they lay together on the bed trying to catch their breaths. 

Malik half-heartedly stopped Mariku's hand that began to inch down from his waist.

"Shit," Malik groaned, his fingers lacing with Mariku's, "We… have to… stop. Fuck it."

"Tired already?" Marik smirked, "Low stamina, I guess."

"Fuck you," Malik shot back, "How many times do you have to take me to be satisfied?"

"I'll let you know." This time, Mariku's fingers managed to find their way between Malik's legs.

"Stop it!"

"Why?" Mariku asked in a sickeningly innocent tone. His hand brushed against Malik's inner thigh, pausing as if waiting for Malik's answer.

"Because ..." Malik was having a tough time breathing again, "There is - _stop it, that tickles_ - more to a relationship – _touch me again and I'll break your hand off_ - than just hot, passionate - _fuck you, stop distracting me_ - screwing like rabbits." Malik wriggled against Marik's tight possessive grasp around him, but gave up the fight easily.

As soon as he finished, Mariku's hand disappeared, returning to its rightful place above the Malik's waist.

"Thank you," Malik whispered, the exhaustion kicking in and sleep pulled seductively. He closed his eyes, almost asleep that second until…

"You said relationship," Mariku whispered into Malik's ear, "We'll be together, you know."

"Mm…"

"Promise."

A tired sigh, and Malik turned in Mariku's embrace. He drowsily pressed a kiss on the other's shoulder, which was what he was now resting on. He then promptly fell into a deep sleep.

Pulling Malik's sleeping form against him, Mariku closed his eyes as well. The question was, however, if Malik would wake up and regret this.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh my… 4200 words… Well, I am all written out, as you can tell with the crappy ending. 

If it hasn't become apparent, I'm trying to deepen the relationships and plot… XD

Please give me your opinion about the new changes.

Please **review**!


	5. Chapter 5: Out of the Ordinary

**A/N: **I'm getting so confused between the original and the new version… XP

… On a side note, I keep looking at this title and wondering… _what kind of drug was I on when I thought of this?_ XD

* * *

Sweet Perfected Naivety Meets Its Counterpart 

Chapter 5: Out of the Ordinary

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

Standing outside the game shop with Yuugi's grandfather, Ryou bounced anxiously on the balls of his feet, his eyes darting from one dim-lighted end of the street to the other. Sugoroku Mutou faired a little better with his nerves and opted to fidgeting with the phone in his wrinkled hands. It was already past one in the morning – probably even closer to two a.m.

Suddenly to their left, a slim figure emerged cradling another. The person cautiously looked around before entering the illuminated area around the large house.

"Yuugi!" Sugoroku rushed up to his grandson, who looked like he was slipping in and out of consciousness.

"Oh my god…" Ryou murmured, following in Yuugi's grandfather's footsteps, "Yuugi? Yuugi…" He received no response. "Yami? That's your name, right? Is… is Yuugi okay?"

"What happened?" the aged man demanded, his fingers already shakily dialing the hospital.

"Yuugi pushed me out of the way when a gang member tried to kick me – he took the blow instead. Some ribs might be broken," the crimson-eyed teen answered concisely, his attention flickering to Yuugi, who was inhaling shakily as pain began to fill his wakening senses.

"Get him into the car," Sugoroku ordered tersely.

* * *

At some point in his sleep, Malik seemed to have regained some cognizant sense, but in the post-sex haze, there was little concern or even thought in his mind. He was comfortably warm, but there was not a presence near him. As he fell back asleep, Malik decided that he just had the most unadulterated wet dream in his life last night… hopefully Bakura, who shared the bed with him, did not mind the result.

-

The door slammed open violently with equally enflamed indigo eyes flashing death.

"Do you know what _time _it is, fucker?" he enraged in a hiss, spotting the leader of the gang.

The other simply rolled his eyes, "Shut up. I simply came along to inform you that the plan –"

"—**No, **you fucking dumbass. It doesn't work like this," the first snarled angrily, pulling the printout from the other's hands and shredding it to pieces. One hand whipped to the base of his spine and touched the handle of the blade secured there.

Unruffled, the other shot back, "Haven't you ever heard the phrase; what I say, _goes_?"

"Fuck this shit," the blonde Egyptian repeated, "Everyone's going to _die_. It. Is. Not. Going. To. Work," he enunciated heavily as if speaking to a child, "Don't you care about the _consequences_?"

He could not believe he was discussing this right within his own room's doorway.

"No. I don't really care," admitted the leader with a shrug, his dark eyes narrowed maliciously, "It's information, plain and simple."

"Going through with this is pure fucking stupidity," Mariku warned, the knuckles of his fist turning white from frustration as it clenched the doorframe, "You know already that, individually, one of them can take on more than one person!"

"How _do _we know that?" was the arrogant reply, "We know that because we went through with our attacks."

"Which I _told _you was foolish before," Mariku stopped and sighed, relaxing, "I can't believe I'm having this conversation of _I-told-you-so._ They aren't a group to be played with."

"You can shut up. You aren't the leader here."

… Not yet, he wasn't.

He could have been… but there had been no real motivation… until Malik, that is.

"Whatever. And you aren't very smart. We're even."

With that, the door slammed between them.

* * *

A familiar, but now dull ache rolled through Yuugi's side. Groaning, the seventeen-year-old tentatively opened one vapid violet eye and winced as streams of bright sunlight peered into the room through the hospital blinds. Slowly, he moved to clear his eyesight by rubbing his eyes, but the tight bandages wrapped around his chest restricted his movement. He frowned, peering down at the white material, and began to look around the empty room.

He heard the soft noise of footsteps outside in the hall, and then the door opened and Sugoroku came in with a cup of coffee.

"Yuugi!" his grandfather said happily, "It's about time you woke up!"

"Ohayo, jii-chan," Yuugi replied weakly.

"Morning?" the gray-haired elder laughed, relieved that his grandson was going to be fine, "It's a little late for that! It's almost four."

Yuugi's eyes widened comically, before he decided to dismiss it – he had been passed out, after all, "What's… wrong with me?"

"Two cracked ribs," his grandfather nodded wisely, "Lucky for you, they weren't completely broken or anything. So it might be three to five weeks of rest for you, young man."

Yuugi rolled his eyes before closing them with a little sigh, "Yes, oh joy, how fortunate."

In the distance, a nurse in the hospital yelled at some children to stop running in the halls. Yuugi opened his eyes just in time to see Anzu poke her head in through the door.

"Oh! Thank goodness you're awake! How are you feeling?" she asked, walking into the room, followed closely by an abashed Ryou (who was embarrassed to be caught by the nurse).

"I'm alright," Yuugi smiled, "It feels a lot better than last night."

"It'll feel a lot better after you take some drugs," Ryou added with a wry smile, trying to make the other laugh, "Those painkillers really work."

"I'm sure that I'll need them for school tomorrow," Yuugi noted with a grimace.

"Hah!" his grandfather barked, "You think you're going to school tomorrow? Well, you're wrong there!"

"What!" Yuugi murmured, "But I have to go! Or I'll be behind in all my classes!"

"It's okay," Ryou said calmly, probably the one and only student in the school who managed to keep up with his classes without a mental breakdown, "Anzu and I could pick up all your assignments and lend you our notes."

"Sure thing, Yuugi," Anzu agreed, "Nothing to worry about."

"There you go," Yuugi's grandfather said triumphantly, "You'll probably miss the whole next week of school also..."

Yuugi groaned softly. Sugoroku looked confused. Didn't students love to miss school?

"So what _happened_ last night?" Anzu asked worriedly, "I mean, it's not exactly a daily occurrence that someone would kick you and break your ribs."

"Well, that's what happened," Yuugi said quietly, a little unnerved by all the attention, "Besides, my ribs aren't _broken_. Cracked."

"Well, I need to go back to man the shop now, Yuugi," his grandfather informed with weariness lacing his voice, "We have to wait for the doctor's opinion on your condition, so I'll come pick you up if they call me."

"Okay," Yuugi replied dutifully, becoming preoccupied about the other's health and spirit as Sugoroku slowly walked to the door. "Jii-chan…?"

The old man stopped and turned, "Hai, Yuugi?"

"…" Yuugi hesitated, "I love you, jii-chan. Don't work too hard."

A happy chuckle emerged from his grandfather, "Get better, Yuugi."

* * *

"_MALIK? _Malik!_"_

The silence was shattered with Mai's disbelieving voice. Malik jolted from his sleep and found himself lying on the couch right back at home.

Mai knelt down by the couch, her hand brushing the Egyptian's pale blonde hair with an atypical touch, "I can't… believe… it," she murmured, trying to regain her usual composure, "I'm so glad you're alright…" she finally said with a sense of relieved affection.

In came Jou, panting from running, followed closely by Yami. It was not difficult to hear Mai's voice when necessary, and the sight of Malik floored them both. The two blinked, and Jou reached up to rub his amber eyes.

"What's wrong? No hugs?" Malik teased, too amused at their reactions to wander back in his memory to understand _why _their reactions were so dynamic.

"… Ehh, no," Jou finally said, "But… I'm glad you're back…"

"An explanation would be nice," Yami pointed out, dropping to the floor with a sigh. He inhaled deeply between his hands and rubbed his face, trying to wake up. Damn, he was _exhausted_ after such a night.

"I…" Malik stopped, and finally said, "I don't have one… I don't know."

The three looked at each other with worry evident on their faces. Malik felt over his body for his blades and found each one in their usual spots. He was impressed that Mariku held such details close to heart –

His lavender eyes narrowed. _Oh. _Now it came back to him.

"… Where's Bakura?" Malik asked childishly, needing his confidante and best friend. Preferably now.

"Speak of the devil," Yami murmured, having been closest to the door and could hear the said person approaching.

Bakura walked in at that very moment, holding what looked like a bag of groceries. He choked upon sight of Malik.

"Bakura… I…" Malik started, but the other closed his eyes for a second.

Everyone held their breath as Bakura looked like he was doing a mental count to ten; that, or a breathing exercise. Seconds later, he opened his eyes and scrutinized the apparition of his friend. He walked to the small kitchen and set down the bag on the counter, and stared blankly at the stove.

"… Is… he okay?" Mai whispered, becoming very anxious at the other's behavior. "We're one big, happy family again, and Bakura goes and hides in another room?"

Malik swung his legs off the couch and gasped as a twinge of pain shot up his back. Even though farther away, Bakura looked up with alarm, before his widened eyes gave way to realization as he turned and saw how Malik was holding himself up. He strode back into his room, and pushed Mai aside, crouching beside Malik with the usual evil glint manifesting in his eyes.

"I think I'm onto you," Bakura said slowly, and with no further ado, pulled Malik's shirt up.

"_What. Are. You. Doing?_" Malik yelled, forgetting just how perceptive Bakura was, as he tugged his shirt back down with a flush across his face.

"It looks consensual to me," the other replied wisely, seeing as this was probably the second thing he was a connoisseur of. Sex came right after fighting, after all.

Or was it the other way around?

The others gaped soundlessly. This was nowhere near what they expected.

"Do… you know what this means?" Mai asked Jou, mockingly looking awestruck as the atmosphere lightened considerably.

"Malik-baby got some las' night?" Jou replied in an innocent sing-song voice.

"_YOU DIE," _Malik threatened with a deep growl, his hand reaching for his most convenient knife. Only to find it missing.

"Looking for this?" With a quirked eyebrow, Bakura fished out Malik's blade from his belt, but as he handed it to his friend, his stare turned deadly parental, "**Explain**."

"Shit. That's freaky, Bakura," Yami interjected, having been reserved this entire time.

"We want to know. He's going to tell us," Bakura answered firmly, "So, pray tell, Malik."

Malik grimaced. He would have rather done this in private, seeing as he really did not want to divulge his secrets to the whole gang… even though he ought to – they were family, after all.

"… My ex is into staging kidnappings?"

The group laughed lightly, and Malik pouted – it was true, in its own special way.

"Not your ex anymore, apparently," Bakura pressed, knowing the other a little _too _well.

Malik frowned, a wave of confusion washing over him, "… I don't know… I…"

"Whatever it is –" Mai stood up and stretched, "You're safe and it's not nice to kiss and tell!"

"Oi, 'dey grow up so fast," Jou added with a grin, "Off and having illicit relationships and all."

"… Jou, please come here so I may kill you first," Malik said sweetly, pulling out his knife.

"Ah, peaceful life at home again," Yami muttered, picking himself up from the floor and dragging himself to bed.

* * *

Seto Kaiba always knew there was something annoying about mornings… but Monday mornings were the worst. The detestable feeling he always got waking up on Mondays was always full of mechanical regret.

No. Mornings never brought a new start – they brought back the memory of missed opportunity or plain incompletion. Perhaps some impertinent news about the new upgrade had manifested in his absence, maybe one of the computers had a new virus that no one had been able to eradicate, what if…

Even worse, Sunday had been stolen from his little brother by a contract needing completion for today.

Still… Seto had never been one to dwell on the past (hell no!) and, as usual, forced the gloomy feeling away as he prepared for the upcoming day with plenty of black coffee.

Before leaving for the high school, the brunette had woken up his little brother, who apparently felt no need to use the alarm on the clock that he had designed himself.

His reason? Something in the line of "_Nii-sama… why does it matter if you're always up before ME? Be **responsible**, yeah?"_

Seto still found that amusing.

Now, unlike what people suspected, Seto did not find comfort in being chauffeured to school in a limousine or equally fancy vehicle – perhaps for meetings and public appearances, he could tolerate the treatment, but daily?

Never.

Yes, he drove to school himself. Though a very different high school student, he still regained the urge to be behind the wheel – in control, essentially.

However, someone had tampered with his car over the weekend. It stopped about a quarter way to school.

"Shit!" he cursed, "What has Mokuba done to it NOW?" he muttered, turning the key in the ignition a few fruitless times, "Does he ever realize how _expensive_ this damn thing is?"

Getting out of his car, the rich brown-haired teenager wondered what the hell he was going to do. Computers, he could handle; mechanics was anotherstory.

Popping open the hood, Seto groaned when he saw a scribbled note that said, '_Joke's on you, big brother! Because you didn't take me out on Sunday, I'm getting back at you._'

He felt more angry at himself than Mokuba for not making time (or passing up a little work) for his younger brother. Seto drummed his fingers thoughtfully on his car. '_What to do, what to do?'_

"Something wrong with your car?"

Seto turned quickly to see who was asking and saw a rather attractive blond teenager, approximately his age if not slightly younger, wearing a tight deep blue shirt and very tattered jeans. No, not the deliberate slashes that teens made in their newly bought pants, but genuinely worn and torn jeans... as if the boy got into a lot of scuffles. It was so strange to see such a style of dress and living in the high society that Seto lived in.

Continuing to muse to himself, Seto observed that some parts were nearly shredded, like below the knees and around the waist and upper leg. Seto had to stop himself from continuing to examine the other's lower body.

The blonde coughed softly, knocking the brunette out of his reverie, and even had the audacity to look amused.

"Actually, yes," Seto admitted as collectively as he could, deciding to swallow his pride just this once, "My younger brother played with my car, apparently." The note was crumbled and shoved unceremoniously into his pocket.

"I see," the stranger mused, eyeing the situation, "Mind if I take a look?"

"Not at all," Seto replied just as graciously as he stepped aside.

"By the way," the blonde smiled disarmingly, pushing himself from the wall and approaching the other, "The name's Jou, short for Jounouchi."

"Kaiba Seto," the older adolescent answered traditionally.

Jou walked over to the hood of the car and peered into the mess of machinery. He inhaled sharply, trying to calm his nerves. Seto Kaiba was so much more stunning in person, with sharp, crystal darkened blue eyes, amber-streaked chestnut hair, and, overall, just striking features.

"What's wrong?" Seto peered worriedly over Jou's shoulder.

"Oh!" Jou withdrew slightly, a little surprised that the CEO was so close to him, "Oh. Umm, your brother did an impressive job, but..."

Swiftly in the next minute, Jou had quickly reconnected everything back to the rightful positions.

"Heh. Piece of cake," Jou muttered to himself, wiping his hands off, "Nothing to it."

Seto blinked a few times, his eyes sweeping the car, "So _that's_ how it's supposed to look like."

"Better believe it," Jou quipped as he slammed the hood down, "Better get to school."

Automatically, the taller teenager pulled out a checkbook from the breast pocket of his trench coat he wore over his school uniform. A pen followed the suit, and Seto looked up with his usual business-dealing expression with the writing instrument poised to scribble.

"Name your price."

Jou's mouth nearly dropped open from the gesture for a couple of reasons. Jou was shocked just to see the reality of the other's vast wealth; imagine if the gang had such resources… how much easier life would be! Secondly, aside from just seeing a checkbook in the hands of an, what, eighteen-year-old, Jou was struck with amazement that the other could be so monetarily _shallow_.

"Y'know," Jou finally said, choosing his words carefully, "A simple _thank you_ would suffice."

"I insist," the CEO said, his voice a little chilly. Jou realized with a twinge of fear just how tough the business world got when Seto Kaiba had arrived.

"I can't," the blonde offered for an explanation, shaking his head vehemently.

Seto slowly returned the checkbook to his coat, too surprised at the rejection to respond but covering it up well. "What would you like then…?" he asked cautiously, crossing his arms and leaning against the side of his car.

"Again… a –"

"Thank you for your assistance, but that aside," Seto smirked, effectively cutting the other off, "What. Do. You. Want."

Jou would have liked a nice thick brick wall between them now. It looked like they would be here for a while unless he came up with something.

"Oi… close your eyes," Jou finally said, coming up with an idea. He just hoped he could run fast enough once he had completed it.

"…" The hesitation was as evident as the nose on Jou's face, and the other stoically stood motionless, waiting for some sort of rationalization.

"Trust me? That's all I ask."

_I'm such an idiot, _thought Seto, as he let his eyes slide close, last seeing the blonde close the distance between them, _Why the hell am I… trusting… him…_

Jou took one second to admire the other's smooth expression. Seto Kaiba was full of surprises - that was for sure. But Jou felt that any more time wasted would be a betrayal of the other's trust (and security), so he swiftly leaned up and brushed his lips against Seto's mouth.

The brunette's eyes shot up at the warm sensation against his mouth, one hand flying to touch his lips. Jou flushed, mentally kicking himself. The other's deep mystified stare burned into his head. Yet, his body was not allowing him for a quick escape.

A chuckle escaped Jou, and he finally broke the silence by turning away, the loose asphalt shifting beneath his sneakers, "That _definitely _makes us even."

Seto could not even bring himself to reply. Jou waved a hand casually and left the way he had come, blending right into the shadows of the alley across from where the car had stalled.

"_See you later, Kaiba,_" was the fleeting phrase Seto caught as he absently got back into his car, barely contemplating what had just happened. Turning on the ignition and stepping on the gas, he thoughtfully licked his lips and wondered when he would ever see the blonde teenager again.

* * *

It was only three-thirty in the afternoon, but Ryou was becoming increasingly nervous as he walked down the little street _Rieki_ to Yuugi's house to deliver and work on homework. The chilly winter breeze made him pull the books against his chest tighter.

'_Now I know how Yuugi feels every time he needs to walk home,'_ Ryou thought grimly to himself, the mere slum-like environment making him uncomfortable.

Suddenly, a heavy hand clamped down on the Ryou's shoulder and the unique waft of alcohol assaulted his nose. He stifled a scream, but a choked gasp escaped his throat.

"We-ell… aren't you -," the man hiccupped and leaned precariously near Ryou's face, "- a cute thing."

Ryou's chocolate-brown eyes widened fearfully. His paranoia of trouble had just come true.

-

"Fucking bastards," Bakura cursed as he dodged into the dark street, a crimson-stained blade in each of his equally tainted hands.

He was back in (assumingly) safe territory – home, that was. Bakura scowled deeply at the rivulets of blood that dripped from several slashes on his body. He had been jumped by a small group of gangsters that consisted of blade users, but Bakura got away as quickly as possible.

Bakura was starting to think that there had to be some sort of reason that attacks became more frequent and more into the eyes of the normal public. Therefore, he wanted little contact with them – no fighting, no killing. The city was already calling in extra enforcement for solving this spreading gang problem, and Bakura knew he needed to watch every step he took. It was self-defense now.

He was not stupid enough to get himself caught for murder. Not again, at least.

-

"I don't want any trouble," Ryou said as assertively as he could, but he quickly began to panic as the man easily had the strength to press him up against a brick wall.

The urgency at which Ryou was trapped beneath the stranger clearly indicated that the man was more than just plastered.

"_Stay away from me!_" Ryou exclaimed fervently, pushing the drunk away with the heavy load of books in his arms enough to slip away and run.

However, the inebriated man was undeterred to satisfy his needs and managed quite easily to bring Ryou down to the floor by a half-trip-half-shove method.

Ryou cried out in pain as his body was thrown forward onto the cement with a solid jarring to his slender frame. His school bag helped bring him down, doubling the pain as he struck the ground. The books scattered from his arms, and Ryou winced as his sight was filled with fluttering white pages, broken textbook spines, and disturbed dirt in the air.

The man wrestled Ryou onto his back, pinning his wrists above his head, and then straddled the poor teenager.

"STOP! Get off --!" Ryou fought a lost battle, his whole upper-body immobile. He had never felt so helpless before, unable to even twist or struggle. Still, that did not stop his mouth.

-

Bakura stretched one arm and rotated, surveying the open wound, which finally looked like the flow of blood was staunching. He did not try and check if the slash on the side of his face had stopped bleeding, in fear that, by touching it, it would become infected. He would have gladly entered his small, shabby home to clean himself up, if he did not hear weak, but clear, commotion just down the street.

It sounded like…

Rape.

-

"_Go Away!_" Ryou shouted tearfully, "_Can't you leave me alone?_" He could feel hysterics approaching.

The man was starting to undo the front of Ryou's blue school jacket. Ryou whimpered lightly and screwed his eyes shut. He did not want to see this happening. Maybe the next time he opened his eyes, the bad man would be gone.

Simultaneously, Ryou heard the swoosh of fast movement combined with racing footsteps. Next came the man's painful grunt as something hit him. Hands released, Ryou opened his eyes in surprise, and watched an impassive booted foot connect with the man's face. Thus ensued the unpleasant crunch of cartilage broken. The lump forming on one side of the drunk proved to Ryou that the first hit must have been a kick to the head.

Recoiling, the man was knocked off Ryou with little effort on Ryou's savior's part, and the drunk staggered off blubbering about pain.

Ryou lifted his torso a little and braced himself up on his elbows, ready to get up. Suddenly another body quickly straddled him, pushing him back down by his shoulders. Ryou tensed up again. Today was not his day.

There was pure silence, aside from Ryou's quickened breathing as he gazed at the newcomer above him.

"Huh," came a slightly amused, but forced indifferent tone from the taller, well-built teenager, "So I ended up saving you, of all people."

Looking closer at the stranger, Ryou observed that they shared the same irregular pale-white hair, but the other's was spikier and more unruly. A few strands looked like they were dabbed in brown paint, and with horror, Ryou's eyes swept over the other's face, which bore a fresh knife wound right across the tanned cheek. His gaze moved a bit higher to the other's stony eyes of a reddish-brown shade.

Bakura narrowed his eyes at the paler boy beneath him. The other's scrutiny of him was annoying him to no end. He was surprised by the coincidence that he had actually met the teen whose house he had scaled just the night before yesterday. Bakura grudgingly admitted that the other boy could be mistaken for a pretty girl even close up.

"… Me? I…" Ryou was confused, seeing as the other's remark implied some sort of connection between the two of them, "…Do I… know you?"

'_No, I would remember this face if I had ever… seen…' _Ryou's own thought trailed off. '_I… no, that was my own reflection…"_

"I hope not," Bakura replied, while he replayed the other's voice in his head. There was something familiar about _that _too.

At the same time, Bakura's own voice struck a familiar chord in Ryou's memory. Ryou felt he had finally met the epitome of the past couple of encounters. But what were the chances of it? None, Ryou would bet.

Ryou tried to sit up again, and this time, Bakura let him, bringing them face-to face. Yet, Bakura did not move from his original position on Ryou's hips. Ryou turned a soft pink once he realized how close they were and how neither seemed to mind.

"Thanks. For saving me," Ryou averted his eyes to the other's collarbone, knowing he had stared blatantly into the other's face for an unreasonably long time.

Normally Bakura would have made some snide comment, perhaps about the other's incompetence or weakness, but he murmured an absent, "Mmm," as he silently judged the shy teen before him.

'_He must be genuinely interested in me since he's not screaming bloody murder yet_,' Bakura thought wryly, watching the other trail curious eyes over his hassled appearance.

"Are you okay?"

Warm fingertips rested right beside a messy, but seemingly closed wound on Bakura's left arm. Bakura pulled away with a twitch, and his right hand flew over the area previously grazed by Ryou. An anxious expression spread across Ryou's face.

"I'm fine," Bakura finally said, deciding that the boy was completely harmless, and a mischievous glint settled in his eyes as he shifted even closer to Ryou, "You okay?" he reached out and brushed the tousled hair away from the other's face. He leaned forward, his right hand pressed against Ryou's cheek, "You should be more careful, you know," Bakura said softly, whispering right next to the other's ear.

Ryou trembled at the sensation caused as lips transiently brushed against the curve of his ear, feeling too warm for a winter afternoon, "O-okay…" he managed, before his senses started to become hyperaware that the older teen on him was starting to _rock_ against him. It was barely noticeable, but it was all Ryou could concentrate on now.

Bakura gave a feral smirk to himself. Now _this_ was fun. All was left to see how much this perfect little student (well, he looked like one!) could take.

"Wait--! What are you…?" Ryou started, his eyes darting to one side to try and catch the other's image within his peripheral vision.

"Doing?" Bakura finished with a low chuckle, "Maybe you. What do you think?"

Fun was turning into an understatement quickly.

"I think you should stop," Ryou answered tightly, trying to work his way out but only ended up increasing the friction that was building up between their two bodies.

"_I_ think you like it," Bakura corrected, mimicking Ryou's soberness, though his actions spoke differently as his hand traveled southward, tracing over the white dress-shirt beneath the blue school jacket.

"You need therapy," was the angered reply from Ryou, who grabbed Bakura's wrist and held it immobile. "Honestly, you're downright bipolar."

Bakura felt a flicker of déjà vu at the unwanted advice. With a catlike spring, he was off the surprised student and on his feet.

"I never knew such a nerd could have such a mouth," Bakura said coolly, turning to leave, but he had connected the details and voice with the face, and by strange luck, he had just met the worried friend of Yami's counterpart… what's-his-name.

"_Nerd?_" Ryou gaped, scrambling to get to his feet in some semblance of order, "What would you know, you…"

There was no noun to describe the other that came to mind. Ryou tried to glare, but from the look of amusement on the other's face, it had little effect.

"Me, what?"

"… _Pervert_," was Ryou's decided word before he demanded, "Now how do you know me!"

"You're more bipolar than I'll ever be," Bakura raised an eyebrow at the other's sudden boldness.

"I don't _care! _Just answer my question!" Ryou's frustration was evident as he lost all restraint on politeness.

A cold, deadly look instantly replaced Bakura's casual, calm expression. Ryou stepped back as a painful tingle up his spin reminded him that this young man was dangerous. Bakura shoved the smaller teenager against the nearest wall, feeling his lips lift into a small smile as Ryou cried out in pain.

"Don't tell me what to do," Bakura said in a poisonous tone, pressing the other against the wall, "You rich people aren't very _smart_, huh?"

Ryou let out a shaky breath, his heart hammering against his chest. This was no game anymore.

"I… guess not."

The quiet reply infuriated Bakura, who was having a hard time seeing straight. The gap between them closed as Bakura loomed threateningly close, trying to intimidate Ryou enough into tears but only induced confusion.

"Are y—"

Bakura cut him off by catching Ryou's lips in a bruising kiss, quickly sliding his hand behind his head to keep it from hitting the brick wall from the force of the assault. The move allowed Bakura to lace his fingers through the other's silky strands, at the same time, making sure Ryou could not pull away. When Bakura pulled away for air, he pushed Ryou towards the mess of school materials dozens of feet away.

"Finally got you to shut up," Bakura muttered, his bangs blocking his eyes and expression as he turned and began to walk away, "Hope to never see you again."

With that said, the gang member disappeared around the corner of the wall. Ryou tried to slow his breathing, the pads of his fingers gripping the wall for support as his legs felt too weak to hold him up. Ryou whirled, a look of determination in his eyes, and ran to follow the other, but found the alley empty.

"But… I don't even know your name," Ryou whispered, leaning forlornly against the corner of which the other teen had been last seen.

-

"Fuck! What was I thinking?" Bakura muttered to himself, having jumped the cement partition and used it to boost himself up onto the roof of the neighboring development.

Just below him, he watched the snowy-haired student gather his belongings and walk down the street to, presumably, the Game Shop.

"_Bakura!_"

The hiss came out of nowhere and Bakura nearly fell off the roof in a nervous wreck. He ended up skidding to the edge where the voice was in closest immediacy.

"Malik?"

"Get your ass down here before you kill yourself!" Malik commanded, who had sprinted to right beneath the awning the moment he heard ungraceful movement above him.

When Bakura finally dropped down next to him, Malik made a face at the unsettling sight of Bakura's appearance.

"You look like absolute _shit_." Blunt as always. "How many jumped you?"

"I love you too," Bakura scowled, and glanced over Malik, who just looked a little weary but was blood-free, "Four. You look like you just had a fun romp with _one_," Bakura smirked, not knowing just how close he was to the true basic setup of Malik's secret relationship.

Lavender eyes narrowed, "Three, you asshole." He glanced at Bakura's arm and face again, "We need to get you cleaned up."

"Orgy, was it?"

"Be serious," Malik reproached, pulling himself over the wall, "You're extra-bitchy today, if that's even possible."

"I had a bad day."

"I'd say."

They rounded the corner and headed for home. Malik was examining the cut on Bakura's bicep, having trouble discerning where the wound actually lay through the amount of blood when he suddenly pulled back.

"You're _still bleeding_!"

"Am I?" Bakura glanced at his arm surprised.

Malik began to sprint for the front door, "SHIT, you dumbass! I need to get that wrapp—_What'dafuck?_"

Bakura watched his vanilla-blonde friend jerk forward onto the sidewalk. However, the trip must have been minor, seeing as Malik was now vividly yelling in outrage at a heavy textbook that had done him wrong.

It looked like…

_CHEMISTRY: Fourth Edition._

Bakura picked up the chemistry book and instantly recognized the size and form of that seen in Ryou's bedroom that one night. Ryou's. '_Just what I need_,' Bakura thought sarcastically.

"_The book dies!_" Malik huffed, slamming open the front door in search for a lighter. When it came to school things, the one and only thing able to successfully eradicate them was _fire._

"Don't," warned Bakura, "The owner would want this back," he turned the hefty book in his hands.

"Careless idiot," Malik spat vindictively, wandering into their room, "It's too late."

Bakura heard objects being thrown around in the room. He knew they had a lighter in there somewhere. As long as the prospect of finding a lighter stalled Malik from remembering they had a stove, Bakura let the miniature scavenger hunt continue.

Opening the cover of the book, seven clear words stood out to him on the otherwise clean title page.

'_I want to know who you are.'_

"Careless… huh."

* * *

**A/N: **5800… I made it extra-long because school starts this Tuesday and hence I can just predict my disappearance. I'm a senior this fall, so first semester is full of college applications and hard work for good grades. Then second semester… _senioritis!_ XD

What do you think of the rewrite? I've worked very hard to fix the shallowness of the character's interactions with each other (unless needed, of course XP ). Rewriting is a pain in the ass, especially if your writing skills have completely atrophied. I suggest no one do it. X.x;

Please **_review_**. I hate to admit it but I depend heavily on your motivation. TT.TT I am a slave the urging need to know what you think about SPNMIC. XP


	6. Chapter 6: Broken Safety

**A/N: **I'm losing everyone, aren't I? Shall I retire from the authoress career? X3

**Happy New Year! **Welcome to the year 2006! I present to you an incredibly new (no kidding!) SPNMIC chapter! This was a crazy-hard revision!

Please tell me what you think and best wishes to all my readers!

* * *

Sweet Perfected Naivety Meets Its Counterpart 

Chapter 6: Broken Safety

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

The bell jingled softly as Ryou carefully pushed open the door of the game shop.

"Ryou!" Yuugi exclaimed happily from his seat at the counter. He did not get up to greet the other though because of his injury.

"Are… are you allowed to be up?" Ryou asked skeptically, maneuvering the stack of textbooks from his arms onto the surface of the display case.

"If you're asking how I'm feeling, I'm fine," the other senior replied with a childish grimace. "Besides, I've been lying down all day, and that gets pretty tiring in itself."

"Point taken," Ryou propped his elbow up on the tower of books, "Are you up for a challenge?"

Yuugi rolled his eyes and reached for a glass of water next to him. Taking a sip, Yuugi tossed his head back and popped two capsules into his mouth. After a hard swallow, Yuugi drained the glass of water in record time.

"_Now_ I am," the injured seventeen-year-old confirmed with a grin.

"Since when were you on Viagra?" Ryou asked, blinking innocently.

"What?" Yuugi gasped, "I'd let you know I don't need Viagra to be up for a challen--oh… OH." Realization dawned.

Ryou couldn't help but snicker.

"That's clever, Ryou… very clever," Yuugi waggled his finger at Ryou, "I knew you were a pervert all along."

Ryou's laughing ceased immediately. '_I wonder… if he got my note,_' he thought, his mind still reeling at the memory of the warm sensation pressed against his mouth. '_I hope… no, I shouldn't… why would someone like him open a chemistry book anyway?'_

"Ryou?" Yuugi asked worriedly, staring at Ryou's slightly stressed expression, "Are you alright? Was it something I said?"

"I… I can't find my chemistry book!" Ryou blurted out, hastily brought back to attention when Yuugi waved a hand across his eyes; to further his statement, Ryou knelt down and began to dig through his backpack.

"Chemistry?" Yuugi repeated, scanning through the four main textbooks in front of him. Calculus, Physics, History, Literature. "Ryou…"

'_Oh no… I can't believe I said that!_' Ryou berated himself and sat down heavily on the floor, his arms resting on his knees. '_I have GOT to get over this! It's obviously very common for some really nice… no, I take back nice… some person to save another person and then kiss him… perfectly normal… nothing wrong with that…_'

"…Why the hell are you taking chemistry when we're taking physics at the same time? TWO sciences? Are you sick, man?" Yuugi finished, his violet eyes widening in amazement.

"I'm sorry, what?" Ryou returned, a dazed look on his face.

"I'm kidding," Yuugi smiled softly, resting his chin on top the books and looking down at Ryou's huddled figure on the floor, "What's on your mind?"

"It's nothing."

"Don't give me that crap," Yuugi countered with a snort. "That wasn't meant to be mean, by the way," he added when Ryou looked at him strangely, "It's not often you are so preoccupied. You're always… how do I say this… on top of things?"

"Really? You think I'd be seme in a relationship?"

Yuugi nearly choked on air and got caught in a coughing fit. When recovered, he sputtered, "What is with you today, Ryou?"

"What?" Ryou flushed pink, "You just set yourself up perfectly."

"As if I actually meant to!" Yuugi countered, laughing, "Get your mind out of the gutter, Ryou… or is that what's really going on?"

Ryou could _feel _his face heat up further.

"_Oh…_" Yuugi mused, his eyebrows disappearing a moment beneath his blonde bangs. "I never knew…"

"You don't know a lot of things," Ryou chuckled nervously, trying to make his tone light.

Yuugi pouted, but looked thoughtful, "You're cute Ryou, but I thought you were too… uh… Ryou-like to get into this stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Porn!" Yuugi exclaimed with a bright smile, as if there was no other answer.

Ryou would have fallen over if he weren't already on the floor. He opted to staring at Yuugi's Cheshire-Cat grin with disbelief. "_Porn?_" he repeated, making sure he had heard his friend correctly.

"Are you having trouble finding it?" Yuugi charged right on, and sympathetically offered, "I could—"

"NO. God no," Ryou laughed, "Never."

"Wait… so what's the problem?" Yuugi asked confusedly.

"… It probably happens all the time." The floor pattern was suddenly very interesting to Ryou.

"That depends on what you're talking about," Yuugi smiled, "Now if you're referring to bon—"

"STOP right there," Ryou interrupted, holding up a hand, "You're _terrible_, Yuugi. I would have never expected…"

"Maybe it's the Viagra," Yuugi joked, tapping the bottle of painkillers.

"I'd bet," Ryou scoffed, "But… well…"

Yuugi 'hmm'ed and interrupted again, "Does it have something to do with your dirty uniform?"

"I…" the white-haired teen started.

"You're lying," his ever-so-observant friend accused.

"What? I didn't say anything!" Ryou defended, though he was about to lie again.

"You were going to say you tripped, right? Come off it, Ryou. I'm probably the person who gets bullied the most at school. You just get harassed because you're pretty," Yuugi shrugged the fact off casually.

"Uh…" Ryou didn't know whether that was a compliment or an insult, "It's the same thing, Yuugi, bullied and harassed, that is. At least drunk people don't mistake… you… as… a girl…"

"It was one time, Ryou… don't worry about it," Yuugi soothed, getting off his stool, and gingerly joined Ryou on the floor, having been with Ryou at the time referenced.

"It… happened again," Ryou squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment, "And… it went further."

"_What?_"

* * *

"You asleep?"

Malik did not move to roll over and continued to stare at the wall, "I wish."

The bed shifted behind him as the other settled on it. Leaning back against the wall where a headboard would be, Bakura nonchalantly positioned a cup of water before Malik's eyes.

"Was it something you regret?"

Malik took hold of the glass but stayed lying down. Bakura's fingers left the rim of the cup and retreated. A minute passed before Malik pushed himself onto his back and sat up with a pained groan, water in hand. After finishing half of the initial volume, Malik eased himself back onto the mattress and turned onto his other side, now coming face to face with the familiar shreds in Bakura's jeans.

"Yes."

He closed his eyes and a frown was etched clearly in his usually clear face. His hand tightened its grasp around the cup, and the glass split. Bakura's dark eyes darted down at the mess of cracked glass, damp sheets, and his friend's bleeding hand.

"I thought you tossed regret out of your life along with your past."

Crimson trailed down Malik's fingers. Slowly, he loosened his grip, and loose glass tinkled into the water puddle at the bottom mold of glass. Broken edges rose up and down like mountains, and Malik was tempted to press a peak deeply into his palm.

"You and me both."

Bakura took a deep breath and let it out quietly. In the mean time, he took the broken shards and tossed the pieces, water and all, into the wastebasket.

"Is it bad?" Bakura finally asked, warily eyeing Malik, who lifted his injured hand so that the blood dripped down his wrist.

"Trying not to care," Malik replied vaguely, unsure as to what Bakura was referring.

"Sure."

Bakura's paler hand jerked Malik's arm horizontal to apply pressure to the cuts by a wad of tissues. The only indication of emotion was the flicker of pain in Malik's lavender eyes.

"I hope you didn't bleed over the bed," Bakura said casually, dropping the reddened tissues into the trash as well. He reached for a roll of bandaging beside him.

"Wasn't my intention," the Eyptian responded, unenthusiastically.

It took a minute or two for Bakura to tie the final knot around his friend's hand. Malik, in return, gave a weak smile.

"What?" Bakura prodded, almost waspishly.

"I could have done better with my one hand," Malik said, inspecting the wrapping job.

"Fucking ingrate," came the ever so clever response.

Malik fell silent, trying to figure a way to broach the subject again. It must have been obvious, because minutes later, Bakura supplied the perfect introduction.

"You regret it because…"

"… Because it put us in danger."

A perfect eyebrow rose in disbelief. Malik scowled when he saw the almost amused expression on his friend's face.

"I don't see how your sleeping with someone puts us in danger," Bakura offered, half in reassurance and half in his own arrogance.

"You don't understand!" Malik blurted, pushing himself up suddenly and anxiously peering into Bakura's eyes for comfort. "He…!"

Bakura waited patiently for Malik to continue, but the blonde clamped his mouth shut in mortification and fear.

Fear of rejection. Fear of separation. Fear of change. Fear of… losing someone important.

Studying the other's tortured expression, Bakura finally shrugged carelessly and stretched before planting his feet back onto the floor and standing up.

"I don't understand a lot of things, Malik," Bakura said with an atypical remorseful smile, "If something was so important to understand, wouldn't we understand it?"

"Bakura…"

The white-haired young man just shook his head and turned to head out of the room.

"There's not use for regret. What's past is past. What difference does it make if we'll face the future anyway?"

Bakura would have left, but he heard a muffled sniff behind him. Whirling around almost angrily, Bakura glared at Malik, who ducked his head down, one hand scrubbing madly at tightly closed eyes.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Bakura exasperated, throwing up his hands, "That's the last time I'll ever try comforting you."

"You call that comfort?" Malik chuckled shakily, using his bandaged hand to blot any stray tears.

With great effort, the blonde eased himself off the bed and, wincing, closed the distance between himself and his best friend. Their lips met briefly due to Malik's insistence.

Bakura pulled away only inches to ask, "Oh, you wanted _that_ kind of comfort?"

"Oh, stop," Malik chided, "I was just overwhelmed with my gratitude for your… uh… _companionship_." Malik looked like he just sucked on a lemon.

"Friendship's not in your vocabulary, huh?" Bakura laughed.

"I would have said I loved you, but it might make… this… what's the name… Ryou very mad," Malik smirked mischievously, throwing his arms around Bakura's neck for an overly dramatic clingy effect.

"Who?" Bakura asked, officially confused.

"Owner of chemistry book and said love note," Malik lapsed back into normalcy, as he set his full weight against his friend, near dragging both of them to the ground if not for Bakura, who was struggling to stay upright, "_Oooh, Bakura… I want to know who you are._ Is that code for 'That was a fun fuck, let's do it again'?"

Bakura groaned, "When…?"

"I'm not as stupid as Jou, thanks," Malik said, lifting his head up proudly, "Give me a little credit here."

"How do you know his name is Ryou?" Bakura inquired cautiously.

"Him, huh? Obviously if you read the cover – WAIT," Malik pushed away from his friend and, staggering, backtracked to sit on the edge of the mattress, "_You don't even know the name of this guy!_"

Bakura glared, "Why should I? I just met him today."

"_Today?_" Malik looked just ready to either (1) congratulate (2) scold (3) pry for more details, or, always a good option (4) faint from sheer excitement.

"Yes… since when do you open chemistry books?" Bakura couldn't help but wonder.

"Since they began tripping me," Malik shot back good-humoredly, "Geez, where have you been, Bakura?"

Bakura considered this for a moment, and leaned against the doorway, "Okay… one more question then, before I kill you."

Malik smiled, "Shoot."

"How sore are you?"

"You couldn't possibly imagine," Malik's smile faltered, "If anything has to happen for the next… oh, say… week…"

"That bad, huh?"

"So very bad," Malik finished with a sigh.

* * *

"Yuugi, wait," Ryou protested, whilst Yuugi continued to take inventory of how many sharp hazardous items were in his home and in how long 'the hunt' would commence, "It's fine. This guy got rid of the drunk."

"Rid?" Yuugi asked curiously, halting in his personal commentary.

"Completely trashed him," Ryou corrected with a dry smile, "I have to admit I was impressed."

"Is _he_ what's been on your mind?"

Ryou swallowed guiltily, "Sort of." At the doubtful look on Yuugi's face, Ryou rephrased his answer, "Yes. Unfortunately."

"Well…"

The bell jangled its second time in the afternoon. Yuugi looked up, ready to ask, "How may I help you?"

"I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?" a familiar baritone asked.

"_Yami?_"

Yami smoothly stepped into the shop and let the door swing close behind him. A small smile tugged at his lips, "Yes?"

"W-what are you…?"

Yuugi struggled to get to his feet, but standing up was a lot more difficult than sitting down. Swiftly, Yami was at his side, helping the other teen up by wrapping one arm beneath Yuugi's arms and another around his small waist. Ryou took one look at Yuugi's flushed expression and decided to make himself scarce.

"Yuugi, I'm going to put our books in your room, okay?" Ryou said congenially, sweeping the schoolwork off the counter and disappearing into the house.

"But! Ryou!" Yuugi called, to no avail. Shyly, he turned back to Yami, who did not relinquish his hold on Yuugi's waist.

"I came by to see how you were doing," Yami explained, gently touching Yuugi's side, "You look well," Yami commented conversationally.

"Tha-anks," Yuugi stuttered, only too surprised to find he had unconsciously grabbed the taller teenager's shoulders for support and was now terribly close to the other. "I… thanks," he lamely concluded.

"No problem… Yuugi," Yami responded smoothly, quite liking the effect of his saying the younger one's name.

Yuugi, as jittery as he felt, had to confess he liked the lack of distance between him and Yami. Though, Yuugi thought absently, most normal friends don't stand so wrapped up in each other.

"So… what brings you to the shop?" '_Brilliant question, if I do say so myself_,' Yuugi groaned sarcastically to himself.

Yami tilted his head to one side as if to inquire about Yuugi's question, but instead, leaned even closer until his mouth nearly brushed Yuugi's ear.

"You, obviously," Yami answered, very much amused. His warm breath ghosted past the curved shell of Yuugi's ear, sending hot tingles rushing through the senior's blood.

Yuugi recoiled, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch the side of his head. His violet eyes widened, but were only concentrated on the sensual appearance of Yami. Yuugi supposed he had never noticed the -- dare he say it? -- beautiful? dangerous? extremely attractive? sexy? details of the street teen.

Aside from the very evident slim, but toned, body, what pulled Yuugi down like gravity were Yami's eyes. Presently, they were a warm crimson, but as Yuugi had once experienced in the dead of the night, Yami's eyes could look like stone-cold rubies.

Presently, Yami was pushing his stray bangs from said eyes, which knocked Yuugi from his reverie.

"Actually, besides coming to see how you were, I wanted to return this to you."

A dark-red bundle was presented to Yuugi, who looked at it confusedly.

"Your sweatshirt you lent me," Yami explained, "Thank you."

It took a second for Yuugi to register that Yami was wearing a familiar black shirt, sleeves rolled up in a style most comfortable to Yami.

"Oh…" was all Yuugi came up with, as he took the folded article, "Ah! How is your… uhm…" With no words, Yuugi gestured to Yami's torso, "I saw bandages last time, and –"

"Healed. It's wrapped to prevent irritation though," Yami answered, pulled his shirt high enough for Yuugi to see some of the wrapping, though Yuugi's eyes froze on Yami's flat abdomen. Yami mentally laughed, but continued with, "Guess we can be two invalids together, hm?"

Yuugi giggled, "Please. You're as active as ever."

His comment darkened the situation, and it suddenly became very awkward.

Yami took a deep breath, "Yuugi. I'm really sorry you witnessed what happened. I thank you for saving me, but do not get yourself more involved."

"Wh—" Yuugi started, wanting to protest or at least have Yami define what 'more involved' meant, but was cut off.

"This is dangerous business. You have to understand," Yami proceeded in a methodical manner, as if he had been running these sentences over and over again in his mind.

"But, Ya—"

"I want you to pretend you've never encountered my group that night," the harsh tone in Yami's voice cut into Yuugi's core.

There was silence, and with a business-like nod, Yami turned to leave. The cheerful jingle of the door was apathetic to the heavy mood.

"_Wait_," Yuugi entreated, "You're saying…?"

"I never want to see you again."

Yuugi felt something wither in him. Whether it was hope or connection or even understanding… it was brought down with those simple seven words.

"Why…?" Yuugi murmured to himself, not even having a specific question in mind. He was confused. Had he really gotten himself into something he didn't want to be in? Or did he honestly want to continue?

As the door shut after Yami's dark figure, Yuugi failed to miss Yami's last fleeting words moments before the door swung close.

'_Stay safe.'_

"I can't… don't understand," Yuugi gripped his head in frustration.

'_Please.'_

* * *

There was something to be about light and dark. There were little things that looked fearful in the light, but even the most congenial objects emanated disturbing vibes in the darkness.

Things that came to mind were streets and houses.

But as luck would have it, the gang found themselves around an empty run-down warehouse area. The building itself stood towering among the crates and rusting metal-linked fences.

"I still don't think this is a good idea," Mai hissed to the others as her eyes darted nervously around. All she saw was dust, odd shadows, and a lot of wooden structures.

"It'll be fun," grinned Bakura, feeling more like himself now that they were faced with unknown danger.

Jou, who had broken away from the group to scout the outside area, inched back toward the four and mused, "Question is: How are we getting inside?"

Yami peered thoughtfully at the top of the building and spotted a relatively close stack of crates nearby.

"I'll be right back."

With that, the petite youth scaled his way up, and, with a little momentum, disappeared over the edge of the roof. Yami had completed his task in complete silence. There were perquisites that came with being so light.

Bakura turned back to look at his lagging friend, "You shouldn't have come."

Malik sneered and gave the white-haired fiend the finger, "Give it a rest, will you?"

Bakura had the decency to look indignant, "If your reflexes aren't already shot, your lower body probably feels like shit."

"Thank you, Dr. Obvious," came the bitter reply from Malik.

"Go home!" Bakura commanded, staring into Malik's pained lavender eyes.

"_No._"

There was a small thud from above and the four on the ground tensed. Yami climbed down and dropped quietly to the dirt with an apology.

"Are they still arguing?" Yami asked Mai, who nodded. None of them knew why Malik had insisted on coming with them in his sore condition.

"Nothing up there?" Jou asked, steering the topic to what was presently on-hand.

"No, though if we wanted to, we could get in from the open windows," Yami gestured to the high but small rectangular openings near the edge of the room.

"I know it sounds stupid, but walking through a _door_ would be _grand,_" Malik opinionated, who was batting away a still concerned but also aggravated Bakura.

"Once we're in, we'll be sitting ducks," countered Mai, knowing enough about a general warehouse to know it would be complete with plenty of corners, aisles, and shelve-like features.

"That's okay," Jou said with a decisive flick of blonde hair. Going to the double doors, Jou tested the weight with a palm, but drew back with caution when they shifted open a sliver.

With a one-arm shove, Jou moved quickly behind one side and waited. There was nothing, and with a kick, Jou opened both doors. Like before, there was no change in the setting.

Even when all five had moved inside, the warehouse was deadly silent and the warm humidity inside the dusty area made their nerves jump.

The group of five was standing close together in the middle of the vast room. Slowly, as if someone had spoken the command, they all spread out warily, each taking up a specific area. When it seemed that they were all miles away from each other, something, somewhere, made some movement.

Immediately, shadows of dozens of people appeared above and around them.

"Shit," Mai scowled, "What a surprise... not!"

No one made a move. The ambushers all seemed to be waiting...

"Hmm, looks like we're waiting for the all high n' mighty dude," Jou said, snapping his fingers, "Alright, then, we'll wait too."

He leaned back against the wall that he was backed up against and crossed his arms. Likewise, Bakura, Malik, Mai, and Yami also backed up a little to survey what was coming for them.

Nothing.

Suddenly, someone actually _moved_, lightly jumping up onto a high shelf, near Malik's head. Malik, who was already surrounded by four people, did not really dare to look up. In fact, the tanned teenager was a little worried about the turning in his stomach.

'_Four… good lord, how screwed am I?' _Malik winced, pressing his back harder against the wall. His eyes darted back and forth, scanning the visages of his opponents. Obviously, he could take them out quickly… if he wanted them _dead… _but even he wasn't _that _cold-hearted.

Oh, life's dilemmas…

"He won't be... attending tonight," the unidentified person informed quietly, though everyone heard it in the complete silence, "What a coward," he also added under his breath.

_-What did you call me, punk?-_ came an enraged voice from the collar of the teenager's shirt.

"Ah, so he had me bugged."

Malik finally realized who was speaking above him. He should have recognized the amused tone in the other's voice immediately, but logic got lost when one was in trouble.

Mariku pulled out a miniscule hooked microphone and jumped down gracefully, landing next to Malik, who recoiled. Dropping the electronic onto the floor, Mariku unceremoniously stepped on it, drowning out any other commands from the angry leader.

Immediately after Mariku had ended the communication, his whole group collapsed into chaos. They all turned upon the one person they were told to attack as a group.

-

"_Aww_," a man cooed after he studied Yami, "I think we got the baby of the group."

Yami's eye twitched at the statement. Baby? _Baby?_ What. The. Fuck.

"Do you realize," Yami said in a deadly soft voice, "That I am capable of maiming all five of you in under two minutes?"

They blinked back doubtful.

Yami started to laugh, "You're more than stupid," he reached behind his back and pulled out a switchblade, "You'll learn not to mess with me."

It was barely a challenge. They were _slow. _Compared to his speed, they were moving as fast a snail. Snickering to himself, but then feeling the smallest twinge of guilt for laughing, Yami unintentionally stumbled over a fallen body.

"Whoa!" Yami stumbled forward, unbalanced, but was pulled back by another, who wrapped a thick chain around Yami's neck and started to strangle the eighteen year old.

Wheezing, Yami's free hand reached up to try and loosen the tight noose that meant to either cause him to pass out or die. With no second thoughts, his dagger sought to distract his assailant, and in desperation, ended up stabbed into the man's leg.

The word howled was unintelligible, and the man immediately dropped to the floor, going into shock. Yami coughed and winced, in no condition to worry whether or not he had hit a main artery or not. The buckle he wore about his neck actually helped more than he would have ever dreamed. And his friends always wondered why he wore it.

Pulling away the heavy chain, he swung it around, gathering enough force through an intricate routine to bring down on his stunned opponents.

That was three down, but who was counting?

"Hmm ..." Yami murmured to himself, swinging the heavy chain around, "How fun."

As he began to swing it in patterns again, the last two men did not dare come close to him, in fear of being knocked out by the whirling metal.

Soon enough, Yami had it swinging so fast that one could not possibly tell where its exact location was, and all one could see was a gray shield around Yami. It hummed disturbingly.

"Fuck!" the man glanced at his partner, "What should we do?"

"I dun---"

Yami had casually walked up to them and brought the chain down upon the man's head.

Chuckling quietly as the man screamed in intense pain before collapsing, Yami grinned evilly at the last man. The man's eyes widened as Yami replaced the chain he had in his hand for a dagger. The chain was hooked loosely along Yami's waist, ready for use at anytime.

"Shit! From chains to knives, I'm getting out of here," the man informed rhetorically, stumbling backwards and wrenching open a side door.

Yami's red eyes narrowed apprehensively, debating whether to go after him or not. The question was, however, whether the others were okay with their situations.

After all, they all had their weaknesses.

-

"Three against one isn't very fair," Mai complained, and as the others stepped out of the shadows. She then muttered, "Lucky me. I get the bitches."

"As if it's a bad thing," one laughed evilly.

Mai was suddenly had an epiphany as to what her teammates were all males. Girls got on her nerves. A lot.

"Until death then?" Mai suggested, reaching for her weapon secured to her thigh.

"Do we play any other way, girls?" the first one asked, one hand on her hip and waving a blade in another.

'_Of course not,'_ Mai answered grimly, narrowing her eyes, "More fun for me. Who's first?"

"_I am,_" all three said simultaneously.

"Figures," Mai glared, ducking the combined assault and rolling away from the three, "Wish I put my hair up," she added ruefully, shaking out her beautiful golden waves.

"Vanity _isn't_ a virtue," quipped a girl decked in black who appeared quickly behind Mai, delivering a swift kick toward her head.

Though instinct told her to dodge, experience had taught Mai otherwise. With her free hand, she blocked the kick and knocked the girl to the floor with a sweep behind the knee. As the weaponless girl crumbled, Mai knocked her out with a precise blow to her head.

With no warning, a flash a metal cut right next to Mai's face, but by luck, Mai had been crouching to the floor to check just how much damage she had dealt the now-unconscious girl.

"Shit!" Mai said with surprise, landing ungracefully, eyes wide in order to observe her setting. "What was--?" As if to answer her, the second girl dropped like a stone.

It took a couple of seconds for Mai to realize that the weapon had an awful hard-to-avoid backlash if the target was missed.

"Sheesh, poor girl," Mai murmured to herself.

"It isn't polite to whisper to yourself when you have company," the girl with two eight inch blades yelled at Mai, who pulled a matching dagger from its holder in order to counteract the approaching threat.

Hanging out with Bakura and Malik did help you work with knives though.

"Shit!" Mai exclaimed again, as a knife bit into her arm. Check that. Knives weren't her forte.

Hissing in pain, she clumsily sheathed her weapons and tore off the black cloth that covered her forearm and wrapped it around the bleeding wound. She pulled out her blades again, mentally grimacing as she felt blood continue to flow and the wound start to sting, but she stood strong, spinning the blade with her injured arm as to indicate that such a wound did not faze her.

"Shall we give it another go?" she asked lightly, but was wondering why the last girl had stopped.

"Not today," came the odd reply.

The slim figure before her took off running. Though urged to follow, Mai fell back with weariness.

It took a lot of energy to not kill.

-

This was not good.

Jou breathed heavily as he continued to defend himself from a large burly man. It was like an unending and tiring game. The difference in weight was just too much. Fortunately, the blonde had already taken out two people. Each was a bloody experience, but whether or not they were gone was another question.

'_I can't take this for much longer_,' Jou panicked, trying to knock the sharp weapon out of the man's hands and yet dodge the other physical assaults.

Grabbing the man's arms and bracing himself, Jou planted a solid kick under the man's rib cage. The blow was successful, and the man froze for a moment and gaped soundlessly from the loss of all air.

Taking his chance, Jou hit the man as hard as he could on the head with the hilt of the knife. Knowing that the man had collapsed and was now in the land of darkness, yet still breathing, Jou quickly turned and prepared himself for the next attack by two younger teenagers, even younger than himself.

'_What is this?_' Jou thought as he struggled against such energetic and ruthless teens. '_They're so young!'_

"I hate to become da bully n' all," Jou muttered, as the two boys spread out to opposite sides of him, "But even bullies have to defend themselves, right? Right."

The two teenagers charged at him. Jou instantaneously darted his eyes to find something to grab hold of. Jou's eyes lit up triumphantly as he spotted iron bars above him. Stable or not, he would have to do this if he did not want to do something he would hate himself for.

Backing up against the shelf, he prepared himself for a jump with his foot on the lowest ledge of the shelf.

"I'm trapped!" Jou yelled, as the two raised their weapons to attack.

Giving it his all, Jou sprung for the lowest bar, his fingers just getting a grip on it. Wrapping his hands until he had a very firm hold on the bar, Jou pulled his legs up to the bar and hooked them, letting his arms go, and hung upside down by his legs. The bars held perfectly stable.

Watching the two teenagers amusedly upside down, Jou saw that they had run into each other. What would one expect from such inexperienced kids? Jou overheard them yelling to each other over the noise about how stupid the other was. Typical.

Jou swung back down, landing lightly on his feet.

"Nice going, " Jou mocked, coming closer to the two boys.

He kicked the weapons away, which skidded across the floor smoothly until they hit a fallen body. Looking frightened, one boy tugged on the other. Unexpectedly, the other one shoved Jou backward, and the two ran for their lives. Jou, too surprised to react, stumbled backwards but gave up the chase.

What were young teens like that doing in a gang anyway?

-

"I'll use this one," Bakura snickered insanely, licking the edge of a terribly jagged-edged blade, "Do you want to go first?"

"Oh, great," one of his enemies muttered, "We got the crazy one."

Bakura snarled, loving the way the others jumped at the bestial tone, "Me? Crazy? No… I just think I enjoy this too much," he ended with a congenial chuckle.

No one attacked him. No one even moved. Bakura raised an eyebrow. This was pathetic… so the fear was kind of cute, but it was _boring._

"… **Three!**"

Bakura took a few steps back when all five rushed at him at once. His eyes glinted a feral red at the first slash that sent splatters of crimson liquid. It took a nanosecond for the adrenaline to flood his veins. His pupils dilated seeing the smears and pools of black that came from his work. It was a zone that could not be broken.

It was almost decorative, the way Bakura fought. Yes, it was a beautiful effect, but dried blood usually ended up ruining the edge of his blade, also given that it was hard to clean off.

"Holy shit! You are fucking insane!" his last surviving opponent managed to choke out, only having received several deep slashes, but not anything fatally wounded. One eye was shut due to a cut and the blood was dripping down an attractive face.

Knocked out of his world, Bakura tried to contain his laugh. He was not even close to being insane. They were just too _pathetic_.

"Insane? No. I just happen to possess... " Bakura turned his back upon the other teenager, "... a little more _SKILL_ than your group of five combined."

Being completely and stupidly wide open, Bakura found it suspicious and insulting that his opponent did not even try to attack. In fact, the said gangster turned tail and ran towards the exit.

"What the fuck?" Bakura leaped over the other fallen enemies to chase after his last attacker, or now, his prey.

Rushing outside, where there was not even a moon for light, Bakura continued to chase after the teenager, who seemed to be losing blood at a very fast rate. Snatching another blade that was hooked loosely by a single loop to his pants, Bakura hurled it, what seemed, directly at the teenager's retreating upper back area. It really did not help that the boy was wearing solid black.

In the darkness, Bakura heard the knife hit solid wood, probably one of the dozens of large cargo carts around the warehouse.

'_Wood?_' Bakura thought, surprised. Was his aim really that bad?

Nearing the area, his ears caught the start of a motorcycle and he saw that his knife had, indeed, pinned itself almost halfway into the wood.

"Hn," Bakura grumbled, pulling his knife out and replacing it back at his hip, "Not bad. Heck, he survived this far. Not bad, not bad at all," Bakura considered thoughtfully.

-

"Wait," Mariku commanded the four other people surrounding his lover, "Shoo," he added carelessly. Almost mechanically, the four turned and tried to divert their attention. Confused, they could only deduce that what the second-in-command said, had to be done.

"_You!_" snapped Malik, angry beyond redemption, "Just what do you think you're doing!"

"I can't say. Don't quite know yet, you see," Mariku whispered back, leaning near Malik's ear.

"_Get. Away. From. Me,_" Malik hissed, but was trapped against the shelf with Mariku keeping him there.

"Mmmm, you said relationship," Mariku reminded in a soft murmur, planting light kisses along Malik's jawline.

"No public displays of affection!" Malik scowled, his voice low but trembling with uncertainty.

"So relationship is still okay, right?" There was hope, Mariku figured triumphantly.

"Fuck off! I'm busy!" Malik pointed out awkwardly, anxiety setting in.

"Fine, if you insist. But if you need me, I'll be right above you," Mariku reassured, having been worried the moment Malik walked (limped) in.

Malik shuddered, "I don't see how that is supposed to make me feel better."

But when the ambush did get underway, Malik found it getting easier as it went along. With his skills with blades, he could almost get away fighting _sitting down. _Malik barely allowed a smile on his face. He was supposed to be mad. Stupid Mariku. Who did he think he is? But this was no challenge. It was kind of funny to see such amateurs go down when they tried to take Malik down. Malik gave them a cold smile, nonetheless.

Flipping his daggers around in his hands, Malik faced the other two. Ducking and grasping one's arm, Malik pulled it in the direction an arm was not supposed to be pulled. That scream was heard by _everyone_.

"You'll be put out of your misery," Malik informed, tackling the man and plunging a knife into his chest and twisting it, "You're lucky I'm so nice. I'm not getting you back for those other injuries you gave ME!"

Hearing whimpering and getting annoyed by the mere sound, Malik pulled the knife out of the dead man and threw it at the other one. Sheesh, such babies, crying and whimpering like that.

"Nice," commented Mariku, dropping down like a cat next to Malik again, reflexively ducking when Malik tried to cut him, "Violent."

"Shut up," Malik sullenly wiped the blade on his shirt.

Pulling Malik's other knife from a body, Mariku also cleaned the blade off on his shirt, tossing it back to Malik, who caught it with practiced ease.

"That's not getting you back on my good side," Malik informed, replacing the knife at his waist.

"Was I _ever_ on your good side?" teased Mariku, edging closer to Malik.

'_Stab him!'_ one of Malik's inner voices screamed at him, but he just could not get himself to throw the dagger.

"Not another step," he warned, holding the blade pointing straight toward Mariku's smirking face.

"Malik... " Mariku frowned sadly at Malik, whose hand was beginning to quiver.

Moving impossibly slow, Mariku reached up and pried the knife from Malik's weakening grip. Looping the dagger's intricate handle to Malik's pants, Mariku gave Malik a soft kiss on the lips. Malik tried to pull back, but Mariku's hand was preventing him from doing so. Pulling away and then giving Malik another quick kiss, Mariku whispered an incoherent goodbye.

Malik opened his eyes, surprising himself that he had closed them in the first place. Frowning to see the other teenager had disappeared, he looked around and tripped. _Again._

"What…?" he muttered beneath his breath, wincing painfully. Why didn't he listen to Bakura when he could have?

Lying there next to his feet was a large box. Squinting in the darkness, Malik pulled the box toward him and opened it. Inside, packed neatly, were bandages, gauze, disinfectant, and other useful first aid supplies. Plucking the note that was taped to the lid, Malik could not read it until he held it three inches to his face. Damn the lack of light.

Malik blinked and figured his eyes were playing tricks on him. Things like that might happen if you just killed a couple of people.

No joke. Mariku actually left him something useful.

* * *

**A/N: **How wasthis new-chapter-six-plus-revised-chapter-seven combination? 6500 words… time for me to pass out. X.X

I beg you to **review**… TT.TT Especially on the earlier half… new chapter six… with the Yuugi&Ryou scene, Bakura&Malik scene, and YamixYuugi scene


	7. Chapter 7: Submerged

**A/N: **_Rewriting is seriously painful business. I am the queen of Stupid Ideas, I swear. Next time, someone stop me! And I hope this came out okay! Happy 2007!_

* * *

Sweet Perfected Naivety Meets Its Counterpart

Chapter 7: Submerged

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

_The senior stared into the glass of the shop door as if it would bring him some clarity--just a little explanation for Yami's abrupt dismissal, something to soothe the anxiety in his mind, for the more he thought about it, the more upset he became. Just when the teenager was about to snap from frustration, the side door to the house clicked quietly as it was slowly pushed open._

"_Yuugi?" Ryou entered the shop, bewildered at his outgoing friend's lack of response. "Did something happen?"_

_Yuugi turned an indifferent expression towards Ryou, who was not the least bit fooled when Yuugi's violet eyes began to glitter suspiciously. Eyes held steady otherwise, jaw set and lips a lax line across his face._

"_Not much," Yuugi answered shortly in a clipped tone, turning away quickly to avoid the other boy's scrutinizing gaze. However, he could still feel it on the curve of his cheek and mentally winced._

_Ryou suddenly nodded toward the bundle in Yuugi's arms, sighing beneath his breath. "Honestly, Yuugi."_

_Golden bangs fell into Yuugi's face as he cast his gaze downward, hands white-fisted into the returned article and quivering slightly. "But…!" Yuugi began, wanting to pour forth the truth but forcibly suppressing himself, unsure of how to phrase himself._

_Ryou raised an eyebrow at the stammer. As Yuugi looked up into the other boy's face, his comforting chocolate-brown eyes wavered into arrogant crimson as Yami's words came crashing back to the forefront of his mind._

'I never want to see you again.'

_Yuugi gritted his teeth as his chest tightened uncomfortably, snapping before he could stop himself. "I don't care!"_

_Still composed, Ryou softly reminded his friend of his neutral position. "Don't care about what, Yuugi?"_

_The shorter senior exhaled softly, seemingly defeated as he was brought back to the reality of the shop interior. "It's nothing. He looked to the ground, pulling at the edge of his shirt in response to his stifled confession._

_The white-haired teen shrugged his shoulders lightly in resignation, realizing that he should give Yuugi the space he so seemingly desired. When the other boy wanted to talk, he would let him know. Pressuring the answer out of him would do neither of them any good in the end. So Ryou stood there next to his friend, hands in his pocket as he waited for the silence to pass._

_"Ryou…"_

_"Yes, Yuugi?" Ryou asked gently, letting a small smile of encouragement touch upon his lips._

_Yuugi stood for a moment, eyes searching Ryou's expression with a subdued sense of urgency._

_"You understand, don't you?" he finally asked, the ambiguous question tapering off into the silence of the room._

-

Ryou turned to his side underneath the blanket, feeling uncomfortable with his own bones. His pillow seemed annoyingly uncomfortable, as did his bed. Hell, everything felt uncomfortable, from the way his sheets tangled around his calves to the insistent throb in his head. He knew he should be asleep, but his eyes and mind were rather uncooperative.

After a few more minutes of futile attempts, Ryou pulled his leaden body into an upright position and slid his legs over the edge of the bed.

Hell, he would be getting up in two hours anyway. Why not just get a head start?

Twenty minutes later, in school uniform glory, he sat patiently on the roof while taking leisurely bites of a piece of toast slathered in butter. The sky was a dark, chalky gray, the ugly duckling stage before it blooms into a graceful dawn, all feathery wisps of mauve and ashen blue. It was chilly, as winter mornings go, and Ryou played with the idea of returning inside for a jacket.

Just as he was preparing to hoist himself up on his search for warmth, he noticed a figure racing across the dead street. Ryou nearly rolled off the edge in his shock.

Squinting, Ryou inched further towards the edge as safely as he could to get a better look. _'Insomnia is highly overrated,' _he griped mentally to himself as he worked to focus his blurry vision on the rapidly disappearing figure.

The stranger glanced around, inching into the shady street where Ryou had entertained an overly familiar memory all night long. Black eyes seemed to glimmer dangerously as they locked with Ryou's for an infinitesimal moment, and just as soon, the man (Ryou was certain of that) had disappeared.

"Oh, no…" Ryou murmured, frozen in place, very much threatened at the mere glance. He could feel panic rising in his chest. _'If that was…if there was another fight… I just…'_

He moved as quickly as he could back into the security of his room and shut the window, hands shaking so forcibly that he could barely lock the window. For a couple of minutes, Ryou stood motionless before shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts.

When that didn't work, he headed to the bathroom to wash his face, hoping that the cold water hitting his skin would bring with it mind-clearing effects. _'One moment of carelessness…'_

Outside, sirens squealed through the suburban neighborhood like a screeching banshee.

The water hit Ryou like reality. _'… and you'll get dragged under.'_

* * *

Spread around Malik in a haphazard circle was an array of medical necessities. One hand fiddled with a disinfectant spray while the other tapped anxiously on a roll of gauze. Near his knee was tape, the end pulled out for quick access.

The moment the first body entered through the back door, Malik jumped up to assist, nervous energy sending his body forward with an abrupt jerk.

Bakura caught his friend's wince, the scowl on his face twisting even further. "Sit down, idiot."

The tanned blonde glared right back, a similar scowl forming on his lips. "Then hurry up and get your ass over here."

There was a pause and a long minute before Bakura made it over to where Malik was. With the light finally on Bakura, Malik suddenly felt quite sick to his stomach.

Bakura was covered, head to toe, with blood: a solid mass on his pants, splatters on his shirt, spots on his arms, speckles across the gaunt curve of his cheek. In short, he looked like hell. However, that wasn't the question; the true question was how much of the massive amount belonged to Bakura.

The white-haired gangster reached up and brushed his messy hair out of his face, further smearing more blood across his cheeks and into red-tinted strands. "What the hell are you ogling at?"

The Egyptian swallowed heavily, eyes jumping up to Bakura's face at the question from where it had been riveted on a particularly large splotch of blood. "Nothing. You hurt?"

"What, you can't tell?" was the harsh retort.

Contemplating his response and deciding that Bakura couldn't be terribly wounded if his mouth was still spouting off rudely like that, Malik answered snidely, "No, Miss Congeniality. Excuse me for my lack of eyes."

Bakura gave one last glare before slowly making his way to the bathroom, pace slow and steps lethargic. Malik studied him curiously before dismissing the vapid movement as a result of exhaustion.

Next stumbled in Mai, Jounouchi following closely behind. After one glance, Malik proceeded to rip off a decent amount of tape with his teeth, pulling Mai's messily wrapped arm closer to the light as he began to work. Mai's violet eyes drew together in pain when the alcohol in the disinfectant found its target, but Malik's grip on her arm tightened, preventing escape as he adroitly cleaned the wound.

Once the wound was wrapped and taped securely, Mai's arm received a fond pat from Malik, drawing a small wince from the woman.

"Ow," Mai finally offered, cradling her arm against her chest as if proximity would lessen the pain. "I would have preferred to stay there and fight if I knew I would be treated like this at home."

"Oh, shut it. Jou?"

The blonde was sprawled on the floor, staring with profound disinterest at the bare ceiling. "Beaten."

Malik scooted over to the prostate blond while Mai tended to the minor wounds scattered across her body, rummaging through the medical supplies until she came across an ointment that boasted faster healing.

"Where?"

"Everywhere," Jou sighed softly, lips scarcely moving, as if it the slightest movement would warrant impending pain. "Nothing broken, hopefully." It hurt to breathe, but not in the unbearable splinters-of-bone-in-lung way—or anything drastic like that. Nonetheless, soreness was soreness, and Jou was not enjoying it in the least bit.

"It's not bad--"

Yami's quiet entry interrupted Malik's focus altogether, and the Egyptian all but gave up on patiently waiting for Jounouchi's short verbal clips, unusually distracted that evening. "--Mai, can you help Jou?"

"Sure, hon. Come here, you big baby."

Jou sighed again before promptly making a face at the dull ache in his chest. "Ma-a-a-i-i…"

"Wha-at?" she innocently returned, brandishing one of the popular analgesics she had come across earlier in her search for ointment.

"Can't move," Jou informed matter-of-factly, groaning as he tried to shift a few feet before giving up and flopping back down on the floor with a whine. Mai shook her head in vague amusement as she slid the short distance towards across the floor towards the other, quipping about what a baby he was and blissfully ignoring the other's complaints as she set to work.

Ignoring the banter between the other two, Yami dropped onto the floor next to Malik and examined his wounds carefully. Damage surveillance.

"It won't be long," the petite teen's voice rasped, ragged from the assault, "before police get down to it. Did we kill people tonight?"

"I don't think so," Mai interjected, taking little notice of Jou's watery eyes, currently the only indication that she was going overboard with her well-meaning massage.

"Maybe," Jou choked breathlessly, so swamped with pain that he was certain he was going to pass out soon. In fact, he could feel his vision darkening already. So overwhelmed with pain that his protests and complaints had been silenced—until now, when a particularly sharp knuckle bit roughly into his bruised and battered rib cage. "One or two—_FUCK YOU_, MAI!"

"Yes. Two. Definitely," Malik answered indifferently, though the reason behind his clipped words was quite evident. A good half of Malik was bandaged, and now that he was finally sitting still instead of running around after others, the ache in his body was making itself quite apparent to him. A small groan left his lips as Yami pressed a cursory touch to his shoulder, which was swelling up rather beautifully. In the raging fight for survival, where he was concerned with his friends' safety, he oftentimes forgot that he, too, could get injured.

It was that exact moment, in the shadow of silence that followed Malik's admission of pain, that Bakura hobbled into the room, face tense to avoid contortion. Almost as a collective whole, everyone's eyes widened with the exception of Jou, who had his eyes squeezed mid-wince when Mai's grip tightened on him in shock. Bakura looked about as blood-stained as when he had left for the shower, jaw set even tighter, if possible, in an effort not to grimace. Even cleaned up, blood dripped down Bakura's pale skin from various wounds. The worst seemed to be on his leg, a foot-long expanse of gaping flesh and tendon, overrun with a small well of blood. It wouldn't be a surprise if that slash reached the bone.

Malik let out a flood of curses, his own pain once again forgotten as he rushed over to the other. In the next second, Bakura's knees buckled and he fell forward into Malik's quick grasp, unable to sustain his own weight on his battered body any longer.

"Emergency room?" Yami asked, stepping closer and trying to gauge the degree of the wound. Fairly smooth incision versus a serrated laceration; boded well for disinfection, less chance of severe inflammation. But blood loss and shock was a threat.

"God, I hope not," Malik said between clenched teeth, using his incisors to help him tear off long pieces of tape as he pushed the gaping wound together. With the fresh blood quickly seeping out, and no trace of any clotting whatsoever, it appeared as if Bakura had already disinfected the wound himself, which made things easier for Malik. He worked quickly to emulate butterfly stitches with the tape, muttering absent apologies whenever a barely perceptible groan emerged from above him as he pushed the edgeds of the wound firmly together, ignoring the trembling in the muscles beneath his hands and the blood that had coated his palms.

"Someone get me two pairs of socks. _Now,_" he grunted as he worked. Malik could hear shuffling in the background and once the tape was in place, already stained crimson, two neatly rolled pairs of socks were dropped down besides him. Malik carefully pressed one of the socks against the wound, adding a substantial amount of pressure as he unrolled the gauze with his mouth, casting an apologetic glance at Bakura when he winced. Holding the edge of the gauze roll in his mouth so to stretch the material as taut as possible, he wrapped Bakura's leg carefully, adding the second roll as he went down his shin and cursing when he ran out of gauze and had to start on a second roll. Eventually, with a little creativity and a great deal of tape, Malik had managed to dress Bakura's wound in such a way as to assure the slash would not open or shift too much.

"So when were you going to tell us about this?" Malik asked wryly, with a bit of anger laced in his words, as he patted Bakura's shin lightly, hand resting on the mounds of gauze and socks. "When you fell over, sweating and shaking, from shock?"

"_Che_," Bakura scoffed shortly, shifting slightly and flat-out ignoring the fact that the wound on his arm had re-opened with the movement.

Malik sighed and proceeded to wrap Bakura's bicep again, a considerably easier task than tending to his leg. All the while, he was studying the other's jagged expression. Blood lust had seemingly left Bakura's system, but that was a questionable statement at best. His body had given out, but his eyes indicated his mind was still running on the adrenaline.

Hoisting the white-haired man up, with great difficulty and the eventual help of Yami, Malik lead Bakura the short distance over to the bed, ignoring the death glare targeted at him. Laying him down and propping his injured leg up with pillows, the Egyptian sat down on the edge and started checking Bakura's pulse and feeling his forehead for any signs of increased perspiration or fever; vigilant for the signs of shock, which he could do nothing about.

"Bakura…" Malik was just about to tell Bakura that he would personally kick the other's ass if he walked on his injured leg at all during the next week when he noticed the expression on Bakura's face.

The young man's eyes had darkened considerably, the grim set of his jaw tightening further as he lay still on the bed. "That bastard got away."

"What?" Yami interjected, eyebrows raised at Bakura's sudden burst of information.

"Who?" Mai asked curiously as she helped Jounouchi onto the couch, finally through with her less-than-gentle massage. Jou groaned as he was released onto the soft, yielding cushions where he proceeded to fall asleep out of sheer exhaustion, too enveloped in his own dull agony to care about the conversation at hand.

"Nothing," Bakura stopped abruptly, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring at his raised leg, all but giving the appearance of being quite unhappy about lying like a weak cripple in bed.

Mai huffed, running her good hand through her long golden strands. "Oh, whatever should we do with these two?" she mused absently, nodding at Bakura while motioning vaguely to the blond that lay unconscious on the couch besides her.

Yami looked pleasantly amused, not so much at their pain, but rather at their difficult personalities. "Chuck them into bed and restrain them until they recover?" With a smirk, he looked over at Bakura. "Well, in his case, just restrain."

"Stay away from me," warned Bakura, darkly glaring at Yami while Malik continued to check him for symptoms of shock, only partially listening to the conversation.

"Oh, shit…" Malik did, however, manage to get the hell out of the way before Mai and Yami struck.

* * *

Medicine was one thing. Milk was another. Unfortunately, while Yuugi was not a fan of either, the latter just overwhelmed the competition in Things Yuugi Disliked. He sat at the kitchen table staring at the untouched liquid before deciding to ignore it altogether.

Turning away, Yuugi rifled through the separated sections of the newspaper that his grandfather had left on the table. Although he had decided he wanted to forget Yami, he was too curious to pass up a chance to learn about what was happening with the gang situation.

When he had finally glanced down at the paper he was holding, he almost dropped the gray-inked news as if it burned him.

It was a rather short article despite the large black and white picture. Front page, center -- there was another gang dispute that morning. The fire department was summoned to an abandoned warehouse that was disintegrating rapidly, eaten by hungry, roaring flames. It was suspected there were bodies in the building, but the warehouse was unable to be saved. It was hard enough to stop the fire from spreading further, what with the dryness and age of that downtown area.

The longer the conflict continued, the more precautions the gangsters were taking not to be caught. It was frustrating, the article stated, but Yuugi felt the chill of fear, not for the neighborhood or society, but for a particular group of five.

He had always wondered why the gang's numbers were so small.

'_Yami… are you dead?'_

Of course, Yuugi was not _close_ to any of the five, but still… still.

The feeling would not leave unless he saw for his own eyes--

--that **he** was alive.

He pushed his chair back, getting to his feet and promptly wincing at the movement. He would have to take the painkillers or else he would not even make it out of the house; then, he would never know if the gang had made it.

Screwing his eyes shut, Yuugi grabbed the horrendous glass of milk and chugged it down with his pills.

* * *

The neatly typed letters meshed into a black blur. Mentally alarmed, Ryou tried to focus on the paper. He _willed _his eyes to focus, but it was no use. His body had reached its limit.

He needed sleep. Badly.

By lunch, he knew he was done for. He had zoned out in all his classes, fighting heavy eyelids and foggy no-no-must-stay-awake! thoughts—and to further the guilt, he would be breaking a pristine attendance record if he left school to return home and sleep.

No, he could push through another few periods. It was just a couple of hours more until his head could hit his soft pillow, his body cushioned by his warm covers--

As he pushed his books into his locker and reached for the ones he needed for the rest of the day, he swayed on his feet precariously. Catching himself, Ryou leaned his forehead against the cool metal, inhaling slowly, trying to bring back a sense of reality.

Instead, his eyelids closed of their own volition, and his mind swam into satisfied oblivion.

-

"Hey."

'_No… dun-wanna…_'

Even his mind was slurred. The firm grip on his shoulder was persistent, though, and he was shaken harder yet.

Slowly, Ryou groggily awoke, comfortable but not the least bit happy with being woken. His eyes refused to adjust with the brighter than usual surroundings, and he squinted a bit from the light. He rubbed his eyes as he waited for the discomfort to pass and, quite suddenly, noticed the blurry movement outside. He felt sick to his stomach for a second before he slowly brought his focus together.

'_Holy…_ '

He was moving. In a car. With a gorgeous black leather interior, enviable audio system, and glossy wood trim.

"Where am I?!" Ryou sat up straight in a rush of panic that caused a good wave of dizziness. He flung off the hand that had coerced him to an undesirable state of consciousness and grappled with the seatbelt that had been clipped across his body.

All feeling and thought were knocked out violently as he was slammed back against the passenger seat.

"Calm down." The stranger's arm had Ryou anchored securely, and the senior exhaled shakily, brown eyes darting before settling on the other's face—because, of course, it hadn't occurred to his sleep-deprived and panicked mind to see who his kidnapper was before. "Just dropping you off."

There was a split-second pause before Ryou sputtered in a rather unbecoming manner.

"_Kaiba?_"

Putting both hands on the steering wheel again, the brunette retreated from Ryou's personal space. The white-haired teen, who rather disliked the feeling of being pinned down, breathed a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, Ryou felt the seatbelt jerk across his chest as Seto stepped on the brakes abruptly.

"W-what happened?" Ryou asked shakily, not feeling well at all.

"What the hell…" was all that Ryou heard from his stoic classmate in response to his question, the mumbled words further obscured between barely open lips. Seto stared off to the side for a second, thumb running absently over the edge of the steering wheel and, in essence, ignoring the confused boy besides him. This, of course, grated on Ryou's nerves, which were already strung taut from lack of sleep and unwelcome motion sickness.

"Oi! I asked you a ques—"

The car started again with an abrupt jerk, once again knocking the wind out of Ryou and effectively quieting him with a small lurch to his stomach.

"Ugh… what the hell is wro--" Another look at the yellow CAUTION tape wound egregiously around multiple orange poles cut off Ryou's outburst. "Kaiba! Taped-off area at twelve o'clock!" Ryou wailed, more to himself than to his classmate, who seemed to take no notice of him whatsoever. At that moment, Ryou wondered rather desperately to himself whether he was going to die at the hands of Seto Kaiba, Mad Driver Extraordinaire.

Of course, Seto paid little attention to the irritated teenager in his passenger seat and raced quickly off the main road, making a sharp turn (which earned yet another outburst from Ryou) towards what looked to be a small one-way street.

Quite suddenly, Seto slowed down, letting the engine cruise smoothly along the small passageway, a vivid contrast to the jerk-stop driving that had upset Ryou in more ways than one. But before Ryou could get a single word of out of his mouth, Seto's composed voice cut him off.

"Are you going to see Mutou?"

The question caught Ryou off-guard, and he temporarily forgot about the rant he was preparing in favor of blinking up at the brunette. "Huh? Oh, yeah… Dropping off his homework. Why?"

Seto simply lifted an arm off the steering wheel, pointing straight ahead. Ryou's dazed gaze followed the line of his arm, past the long, defined fingers and down the desolate street.

"I think you'll miss him if you were to stop by his house," Seto commented wryly.

Ryou's eyes gravitated to the small figure walking down the street amongst the police tape and grime. Suddenly, the reason for the brunette's wild driving became clear to him.

"_Yuugi?_"

-

Yuugi looked up in surprise when a sleek BMW slowed to a stop right in front of him. He had seated himself right in front of the gray residence from which he had seen Yami exit (injured and mourning the loss of his shirt). The passenger door swung open and Ryou bounded into view.

"Yuugi! What are you doing here? This place is dangerous! Why aren't you home?"

"Calm down," sighed Seto, who rolled down his window. Running a hand through his chestnut strands, Seto vaguely wondered if Ryou had high blood pressure with how high-strung the boy was.

"Kaiba, you really don't have to--" Ryou began lamely.

"I don't need you collapsing next to me again," the brunette said shortly, not paying much attention to the conversation that would soon ensue between the two close friends.

It was rare enough to be in these areas, and Seto was curious, albeit clandestinely, about what was peppering the news lately. He nearly sideswiped the last roped-off scene, but driving to this exact spot, he had seen another scene nearby when turning into the street. Was it simply just a gang rivalry?

Yuugi looked alarmed, "It's only lunchtime, Ryou. Are you sick?"

"NO. I just didn't sleep last night!"

"Are you _ditching_?" Yuugi asked, jokingly shocked, "What a delinquent!"

Ryou threw up his hands, "Kaiba does it all the time!"

Seto rolled his eyes and twisted his arm to check his watch for time. Granted that he would have left school anyway at this time for Kaiba Corporation duties, he wanted to pick up Mokuba and do lunch. Seto then had to mentally chastise himself. He could not just believe he was putting his little brother in terms of business. What Mokuba did to his car before was a clear indication that the brush-off treatment needed to go.

'_That reminds me…_'

"Yuugi," Seto spoke out of the blue, most likely interrupting the other two seniors' talk.

"Yes?" The tri-colored senior immediately responded, as polite as ever.

They had a tacit, though weak, understanding of each other. However, as business went, they were almost connected. And Seto hoped Yuugi knew best because he lived around this area.

"Ever heard of… Jou? Male. Blonde," Seto tossed the few general, vague details to Yuugi, who furrowed his brow in thought.

Yuugi's mind connected him to images of the smiling, good-natured teen who he had seen a couple of times among the group of five.

When Seto realized Yuugi was recollecting something but still uncertain, he unconsciously drew up more details, surprised that he himself could remember such details on one particular person, "Amber eyes. Tattered jeans. Not someone who would attend our school."

"Yes," Yuugi finally breathed, slowly, and focused on the other's sharpened blue eyes, "I met him. I know him."

-

There was no way in hell that Yami was falling asleep. After a night like that, when the other four had nearly passed out where they stood, he was going to risk being caught defenseless in another sudden emergency--be it attack, ambush, or police investigators.

It was only an all-nighter. Not terrible, but rather uncomfortable, especially since it was nearly midday.

To keep himself busy, Yami had busied himself with menial tasks, which included taking cupboard and refrigerator inventory, checking locks and entrances and windows and doors, and fixing the broken sink in the bathroom.

He was fighting the urge to sleep as he shuffled through bills when he heard the front doorknob rattle. It was very quick, like a timid test, but Yami was on his feet, ready for something or someone to break in somehow.

Yami was very, _very _glad he had been awake. No matter how lightly the gang of five slept (life style choices and all), there was very little that could wake the other four right now, much less an attempt to break in.

When there was no more sounds, Yami's suspicion grew. Who had that been?

Instead of sitting down, Yami remained standing and began to pace. It was only several minutes later that he heard a car drive down the street (and from the near silence of its motion, ruined by wind, Yami could tell it was a _nice _car), but suspiciously, it stopped right in front of the door.

'_Fucking shit_,' Yami cursed silently, hearing voices, and inched closer so he could try to decipher the conversation. He needed to know if he needed to wake the others or not.

However, after a shocking revelation after a glance through the peephole, Yami nearly fell over after looking at the disoriented event occurring through the curved lens.

There was no mistaking that hair.

Now what could he do? It was bad enough to endanger one, but…

Two more?

-

Yuugi felt genuinely sorry that he could not offer more information about the blond in question, but like the private individual Seto was, the brunette brushed the random interruption away with practiced nonchalance.

"Yuugi," Ryou eased the change of subject to his favor, "… Are you here to _see someone?_"

'_That good-for-nothing someone?_' Ryou condemned with a mental scoff.

"Actually…" Yuugi fidgeted, feeling awkward knowing that Ryou would not leave unless… well, either Seto, who was now looking familiarly agitated due to the obvious, dragged the white-haired senior home or Yuugi made up a believable lie.

Of course, Yuugi would bet his allowance that the former would happen thousands of years before the latter might be possible.

Suddenly, there was an attention-grabbing snap that came from the door. The door was all but wrenched open.

"Yuugi!" The friendly smile on the taller teenager's handsome face was disconcerting.

The teenager in question jumped considerably at the strange tone, and whirled around. Focusing on the older teenager within the door frame, Yuugi couldn't help but scan the other over for any injuries.

Trying not to appear nervous, Yuugi replied quietly, while trying to get his nerves settled, "Ya--? Yami. H-hi."

Ryou tensed visibly, brows furrowing. Seto, as cool as ever, could not disguise that his attention had been caught.

"I was expecting you," Yami continued brightly, enthusiastic to the untrained eye. He grabbed Yuugi's wrist and pulled the younger boy into the house. With a burst of inspiration, Yami let his lips graze the other's cheek like a chaste greeting, "It's good to see you again," and with a slight backward glance, he thanked the scrutinizing pair and politely addressed them like strangers, "Thanks for dropping Yuugi off."

The door was shut behind Yuugi. Ryou was left stunned and completely speechless.

Seto finally broke the other's reverie, "See? Now get in the car."

* * *

"Just _what _do you think you are _doing_?" Yami heatedly whispered, locking and shoving the bolt into place. His grip tightened around Yuugi's wrist.

"I--"

Yuugi was interrupted almost immediately before he could speak. "Why didn't you _listen _to me?" The other's crimson eyes were smoldering, "You could have been _killed._ I _told _you--"

"**I know what you told me!**"

The sudden loud outburst from Yuugi caused Yami to drop the other's arm and take a step back. In such a strange situation, Yami fell characteristically quiet. His head tilted in his attempt to comprehend what exactly he was responsible to do.

The high school senior shakily inhaled, heavily swallowing the feeling to burst into tears, "I mean…" he tried to assemble what he needed to say, but he really had nothing planned, "I mean… yes. Yes, I know. I know I'm not supposed to see you, I know I'm not supposed to talk to you… I know… I know I'm not supposed to… think of you…"

Yami blinked, and shook his head. He leaned against the door and with one hand, tried to stop the pressure building in his temples. Who knew this was going to be so painful.

"Stop. Yuugi. Just stop."

The petite student winced and turned away, using his fingers to quickly brush away the liquid threatening to spill from his eyes.

"I--"

"Yuugi. Sit down." Yami cut in quickly again, slowly stepping closer and giving the other a gentle push toward the couch. He cautiously avoided looking Yuugi's face that showed obvious signs of emotional discomfort.

"What is it?" Yuugi kept his eyes trained on the table beside him, even when his body faced Yami's when they settled onto the cushions.

"Look," Yami reached out and gently turned the other's face toward himself, "I'm sorry about all of this, but--"

"--but what?" Violet eyes narrowed slightly. Who wouldn't be angry about being brushed off? He should have the right to be miffed.

Yami sighed. The watery pseudo-glare was worse than any old I-hate-you-_so-_much glare. "Don't you get it?"

"I'm not weak," Yuugi firmly pointed out.

An atypical look of surprise crossed Yami's features. "I never said…"

"That's what you've been thinking. I'm getting involved with a dangerous situation. I can't handle it. Right?" Yuugi crossed his arms.

"No… I mean, yes," Yami frowned, trying to get his words straight, "It _is _dangerous. It's a question about your safety, not… not about your ability to… be okay," he finished lamely, unable to find the word.

"Why worry? I'm fine!"

"I wouldn't call hospitalization and survival on painkillers 'fine,' Yuugi!!" Yami finally exploded, expending all suppressed energy on volume and restraint from shaking sense into the smaller teenager. "You could be killed!"

"So can you!" Yuugi yelled in return, "Where would _you _go for broke--"

"_I wouldn't get hurt!"_

"Bullshit!" The curse flew easily out of the high school senior. "_Wouldn't get hurt_, MY A--"

An irritated groan from the small hallway made both freeze. "What the fuck, Yami." Mai sounded like she had been run over. Monotony wasn't the tone for her. "Can't you fight with your boyfriend outside or something?"

A heavy silence fell on the small inhabitance. Say what?

The blonde rubbed her eyes, trying to wake up, "I thought I was having one crap-ass dream before I realized it wasn't a dream."

Yami coughed awkwardly, clearly trying to move past Mai's groggy complaint, "Sorry, I--"

"--Yeah. Get some sleep," Mai yawned into her palm, "I'm tired of listening to you two go back and forth when you're cranky and stressed."

With her numerous interruptions, she was leaving no room to argue. Yuugi shot Yami a wide-eyed look of confusion. Yami barely lifted his shoulders in a subtle shrug.

She was moving to the kitchen, most likely for sustenance, "Make up and nap it," she commanded, opening cabinets for a bowl, "Or else I'll sit there and watch."

What did chronic headaches indicate? As he tried to relax, Yami realized how truly tired he was. But he would rather pass out and risk a concussion before letting an issue go by unresolved.

"Mai, may I--" Yami started, rising to his feet. He held out his hand to help Yuugi stand up.

"Yeah. Go." Being a woman of few words, Mai settled to staring at the wall before her as she spooned a mass of damp cereal into her mouth.

"Where are we going?" Yuugi questioned softly, half afraid that the blonde would overhear and inject with another string of short clipped phrases. As his hand slid into Yami's grasp, he was pulled to his feet.

Yami let a small smile tug at his lips. Mai was, as always, understanding down to a pin drop. He tugged Yuugi toward where Mai exited, "Her room."

"Why her room?" Yuugi asked curiously, specifically ignoring the satisfying feel of their hands clasped together.

"She has a bed," Yami answered promptly with a mischievously smile just as they entered through the doorway.

The high school senior stumbled in surprise, but the other simply closed the door behind the both of them.

"Why is a _bed _important?" Yuugi sputtered, turning pink when remembering that they _were _supposed to 'make up'.

Yami gave Yuugi's hand a light squeeze. "Don't worry," he reassured, tilting the other's face upward and closing the distance between their lips to a point where they could be recycling air between themselves, "I'm pretty good at it."

"W-wait! Ma-making... up?" Eyes wide, the senior stumbled over his words, flushing deeper as he did.

Impressed by the fact that Yuugi had not backed up, the older teenager chuckled lightly and pressed a chaste kiss to warm cheeks.

"Well, yes. But the bed is for sleep. Remember?"

* * *

**A/N: **_I know it was awful. I tried, really! Feedback, please? I beg. TT.TT_


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